


Seriously, Fuck Titles

by rosered00



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Christophe Giacometti & Victor Nikiforov Friendship, Hayato Nikiforov (OC), Infant Death, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mood Swings, Mpreg, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Pregnant Sex, SIDS, Stripper AU, Stripper Katsuki Yuuri, Stripper Yuuri, Unplanned Pregnancy, adelaida nikiforov (OC), overdue pregancy, pregnant victor nikiforov, slight belly kink, stripper phichit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-23 02:07:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 26,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9636176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosered00/pseuds/rosered00
Summary: Victor is six months pregnant and recently broken up. Chris is looking to fix that, and Yuuri is just looking to do his job. Or in other words, Victor is lonely and the love of his life struts into said life in fishnets and heels.





	1. Chapter 1

This wasn’t Victor’s idea of a good time. His idea of a good time was staying at his house, curling up with his boyfriend, poring over their vast collection of pregnancy books to try to get a leg up on their child while it was still sleeping inside of him. Which was what he would have been doing tonight, except that his house wasn’t his anymore, and neither was his boyfriend.

The relationship had been rocky for a while, though it had taken Victor a while to admit that to himself. He’d kind of hoped, when he found out about his condition, that this would bring them closer again. It had almost worked. They had struggled through a further six months before his boyfriend had thrown him out. Pregnant, scared, and alone, Victor had fled to the home of his good friend Chris, all the while thinking that it was stupid to believe a baby could fix everything that had gone wrong between them. Hindsight truly was twenty-twenty; he saw that now.

Chris had welcomed him with open arms, just as Victor had known he would. What Victor hadn’t known he would do, however, was that he would drag him to a strip club the next week. He was all for moving on, of course, but this wasn’t exactly the method he would usually go for. Chris saw that as all the more reason to forge ahead.

So here he was, cradling his bump and feeling more than a little bit awkward in a stage-side seat. The club was clearly very high end, with elegant lighting and comfortable chairs. There were even waitresses making their way through the clusters of armchairs so that one could get a drink without having to miss any of the show.

Chris leaned forward from where he sat in the chair opposite Victor. “So are you excited?”

“Yes Chris,” Victor answered, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m so excited that I can hardly contain myself.”

The pout that Chris put on was so exaggerated that even Victor had to applaud it. “How can you not be excited? I’ve told you how amazing he is!”

That was true. Ever since he told Victor where he was taking him, Chris had been gushing about one particular dancer that would be performing tonight. Victor had thought that perhaps his friend was blowing things out of proportion, until he had arrived at the club and found most of its other patrons talked about this “Yuuri” in an equally adoring manner.

Before he had time to consider it further, the lights dimmed just as they had for each previous performance. This time, though, the crowd had an immediate reaction. Victor jumped a little at the sudden rowdy shouts, and rubbed his stomach when the baby started as well.

A familiar guitar riff played on the speakers, and a silhouette appeared at the far end of the stage. The long legs of the silhouette began to move, graceful despite the massive heels and tight fishnets they were clad in, bearing their owner closer to Victor.

Victor felt a surprised blush cross his face when the man on stage finally stepped into the spotlight. He didn’t think he’d ever seen someone so beautiful. His face, his hair, his shapely torso and legs... all of it was something straight out of a dream. And those thighs; Victor wasn’t usually one to have such lewd thoughts about a complete stranger, but in the moment that Yuuri’s upper legs first gripped the pole Victor found himself thinking about how very much he’d like to push his head between them.

The performance passed in a blur. While Victor knew that he had drank in every detail in as much clarity as he could, by the time the lights came up and he was watching the dancer’s leather-clad ass retreat across the stage he found that he was struggling to remember anything. He was certain of one thing, though. He had to see that dancer again.

Chris laughed when he relayed that. “See, I knew you’d like him.” He leaned closer to Victor, so as to be heard over the intermission music. “I’ve also heard that you can get a private dance from him, for the right price of course.”

Victor found himself being tugged along to the VIP area before he even had time to comprehend the implications of what Chris had said. Reaching the cordoned-off area, Chris reached into his wallet and pulled out a ridiculous sum of cash, handing it to the bouncer and whispering a message in the ear of the rather intimidating man. The bouncer nodded curtly, undoing the barrier and allowing the two men in before heading off, presumably to notify the object of Victor’s desire.

The bouncer came back a few moments later, and directed Chris and Victor down a hallway filled with small rooms. The last room on the left had the curtain drawn back. Inside, Victor glimpsed an already-familiar pair of legs, the ankles daintily crossed and one foot tapping against the floor.

Yuuri rose from the garish red sofa he was sitting on when Chris entered the room. Victor felt his mouth fall open when the dancer set his glass of champagne aside and drew Chris into a tight hug.

“Chris!” Yuuri exclaimed, pulling back to look at him. Victor’s mind was reeling, trying to process the fact that Chris evidently knew this man while simultaneously wondering how Yuuri’s voice could be sexier than he had thought it would be. “It’s been a long time, my friend! Will you be having the usual?” he asked with a wink. Victor gulped when Yuuri glanced over at him in a dismissive manner. “It’s not like you to bring someone to watch.”

“Sorry to disappoint, Yuuri,” Chris chuckled. His hand came down to rest on the small of Yuuri’s back. “But the dance is for my friend here.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. He looked over Victor again, more carefully, and Victor found himself covering his bump self-consciously under the scrutinizing gaze. “You understand that this a is a lap dance, right Chris? I need a little lap to work with.”

Victor flinched at the scathing tone in Yuuri’s voice, and Chris shot a worried glance in his direction. “A favour for an old friend?”

There was a moment of silence. “Fine. You,” he commanded, looking at Victor and removing himself from Chris’ embrace, “on the couch.” Victor complied quickly, feeling equal parts embarrassed and aroused. Chris excused himself with a wink and wave, closing the curtain behind him.

Yuuri sauntered to the stereo in the corner, hips swaying. “Two songs,” he said in a voice that left no room for argument. “And remember, no touching, except what I invite.” He pressed play, and a deep, sensual bass began to pulse throughout the room.

It was extremely surreal, watching and feeling someone so attractive straddle what remained of his lap and begin grinding to the beat of the music. Victor felt himself getting hard as Yuuri’s hips undulated, rolling against him with just the right amount of delicious pressure.

Yuuri placed on hand on each side of Victor’s bump as he continued to move with the thudding music. “I’ve been wondering since I saw this,” he whispered in a sultry voice, lips brushing against Victor’s ear and sending shivers down his spine. “The man who did this, did he take you, mercilessly at first sight? Or was it different? Maybe he had you whimpering, begging for his cock and for him to fuck his baby into your belly.”

Victor’s cheeks stung with an intensity he’d never experienced, and he quickly realized that his cock was throbbing and hard. He’d never been one for dirty talk, but the way that Yuuri said such crude things so easily had his skin flushed and his breath coming fast. He swallowed hard, struggling to keep his hands on the sofa cushions.

Yuuri pulled back a little, easing up on his grinding. “Not the talkative type, huh? Isn’t really conducive to begging, but... I like the idea. You, desperate to touch, to get knocked up...”

Soft fingers grasped Victor’s wrists and guided his hands down. His breath hitched in his throat when Yuuri placed them on his own hips, urging Victor to grip them as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. He was achingly hard now, even though his belly kept Yuuri from having any direct contact with his crotch. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized how nasty it was to get this aroused by a stripper practically humping your baby bump; with a mental shrug he cast the thought away for later analyzing.

Yuuri’s hands had found their way back to said bump. While Victor realized the dancer was probably just steadying himself, he still couldn’t help but let out the tiniest mewling sound at the contact. There was something so intimate about it, and yet so, so filthy.

“What’s that? Do you like that?” Yuuri asked, beginning to move his hands across the surface of the swell between them. It was all Victor could do to nod in response.

“Here’s an idea, mister. What if that baby was mine? What if I’d been the one to fuck you nice and full like this?” One of Yuuri’s hands had made its way under the curve of Victor’s stomach, and was pressing down softly on the bulge it found there. That tiny bit of stimulation was all it took to send Victor over the edge.

Victor swore he felt his heart palpitate. “Oh god, yes,” he gasped, his back arching off of the couch and belly pressing into Yuuri’s as he came. His vision flashed white with the force of his orgasm, and he could feel his mouth hanging open in a silent cry.

It took several seconds to register that Yuuri’s weight was no longer on his lap, and that the music filling the room had come to an end. He caught the shortest glimpse of Yuuri’s back as he left the room, the curtain swishing shut behind him.

Just like that, he was gone, on to his next customer and presumably already on his way to forgetting Victor.

***

“So how was it?” Chris excitedly as soon as Victor approached him at the bar. He glanced down and immediately noticed the dark stain on his friend’s pants. “Oh, that good?”

“Yeah, that good.” Try as he might, Victor couldn’t keep the bitter note out of his voice.

“You don’t sound very happy for someone who just had the lap dance of his life.” Chris paused for a moment, waiting for Victor to respond. When no response was forthcoming, he continued. “Here, I’ll tell you a couple things that’ll cheer you up.”

Victor glanced at him, raising an eyebrow.

“First, that bad-ass, don’t give a damn attitude of his is all an act; Yuuri is actually one of the sweetest people I know. Second, I stuck your number into his stockings.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, Yuuri calls him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ice cream date!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You like short chapters based on ridiculous kik conversations pertaining to the spur of moment fic you end up adding to? Well have I got something for you.

It really was a beautiful day for a date, as far as Victor was concerned. The sun was shining in the park, and while it was warm, the stifling heat of true summer had yet to set in that year. He glanced at Yuuri, considering him while they made small talk about the lovely weather.

 

In the two months since the incident at the strip club, Victor had become sure of exactly two things. The first was that Chris had been absolutely right, and that Yuuri was in actuality one of the most adorable and caring people in existence. Yuuri's looks had been what enthralled Victor during their first scandalous encounter; during their second date, Yuuri had revealed kind and compassionate, if shy, mannerisms that kept Victor coming back for more.

 

Secondly, he had become sure that Yuuri felt incredibly awkward concerning Victor’s pregnancy. He was clearly curious, judging by the fleeting glances glances that he spared Victor’s midsection when he thought that the other wasn’t looking. Even now, as they stood in the short line at the ice cream vendor they’d chosen to try, Victor could tell that the other man was anxious. His smiles weren’t quite reaching his eyes, and his hands continued to fidget where they were stuffed into his pockets. 

 

Victor was sure that the source of Yuuri’s awkwardness stemmed from the things that the dancer had said during their first meeting. Outside of his work, Yuuri didn’t seem the type to say such things to someone he hardly knew, especially when they were centered around something that most people viewed as innocent in the most joyous way.  _ And they were _ such  _ lewd things, _ Victor recalled fondly.

 

If he was honest with himself, Yuuri’s hesitation to broach the subject again was beginning to irritate him a little. Victor, as a rule, considered himself a very straightforward person, and all of this beating around the bush was beginning to exhaust him a little. There was another factor, though; Victor had begun to realize that he sorely missed someone other than himself being intimate with his growing belly. With each date that they went on, Victor became more and more convinced that he wanted Yuuri to be the one to fill that gap.

 

Victor’s back was beginning to ache, so by the time that he and Yuuri got their ice cream and made their way to a nearby bench, he found that he was very grateful for the chance to sit down and take some of the strain off of his spine. He stretched upon sitting, arms over his head and bump pushing out as the tired muscles of his lower back complained; while Victor assumed that Yuuri was trying not to stare, he wasn’t very successful. 

 

They chatted for a while longer as they ate their ice cream, asking each other about how their weeks had gone and discussing the antics of extremist politician in a far away country. Yuuri’s too-polite speech and peripheral glances at Victor’s belly continued through the conversation, and it was all Victor could do to stop himself from grabbing Yuuri by the shoulders and saying something ridiculous like “Come on, just do it. Put your hands right there on my tummy tum!” 

 

It was more than Victor could bear. “Come here, Yuuri,” he said, placing one arm along the back of the back of bench so that his date could slide a little closer. He gestured to his bump with his free hand. “You want to touch it, right? If you want to, just come here and do it.”

 

Yuuri's face coloured, and he quickly averted his eyes. “Ah, n-no, I couldn't,” he stammered.

 

“Yuuri.” The name was long and drawn out, with a tone of exasperation to it that had Yuuri meeting Victor's eyes again. “I know I haven't known you very long, but is it too much to ask that you be honest with me?”

 

He took Yuuri's hand, turning it over in his own and placing it on the swell of his belly. Yuuri froze for a moment, unsure of how to proceed until he felt a soft flutter under his hand. Yuuri's expression softened, and he looked at Victor, who grinned excitedly. “Neat, isn't it?”

 

“Listen, Victor,” Yuuri began. “I'm sorry about the things that I said when we first, ah, met, and-”

  
“Let me stop you right there, Yuuri,” said Victor, pressing a long finger to the other’s lips. “You have nothing to be sorry about. And the only think that I'm sorry about is that I didn't let Chris take me to that club earlier.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The part I've all been waiting for

       _Art by my lovely friend lilithsins can be found[here](http://n-s-f-w-sportsbaes.tumblr.com/image/161589465109)_

     They had sex for the first time when they returned to Yuuri's apartment from the park that day. Well, Victor would always count that as their first time, even though Yuuri argued that what they had done at the strip club was more than enough to be considered sex. He never told Victor, but it had certainly been enough to earn him a scolding from the establishment’s manager.

      Victor had sensed a change in Yuuri, even before they made it back to his apartment. It was subtle, like the shifting of a wrinkle on a throw rug that refused to lay flat, but it was there. It was as though with that small touch of his belly, Victor had unlocked a new side to Yuuri; one that was neither the bold stripper nor the awkward boy from the park, but something in between and yet entirely different. This Yuuri seemed not only to know what he wanted, but knew that it was okay to pursue it as well.

      There was confidence in this Yuuri's movements when he pulled Victor to him, and a gentle charm in the way he locked their lips. He was firm in pulling Victor down onto him once they reached the bed, but fumbled and blushed as he began peeling off their clothing.

      Victor could feel goosebumps prickling his skin in the wake of Yuuri's fingers. They trailed across his now-bare torso, skimming over his bump and roaming from his hips to his shoulders and back again. It felt to Victor as though they had left scorch marks along the way.

     Once they were both devoid of their clothing, Yuuri rolled them softly, his motions precise and slow so as to avoid jostling Victor. He couldn't help but admire the way that Yuuri's muscles moved under his smooth skin as they effortlessly bore the weight of both men.

      Victor's eyes fluttered shut when Yuuri's lips grazed his skin, first at the dip in his throat, then lower and lower; they opened again in time to catch Yuuri's gaze as he placed a very deliberate kiss on the top of his belly. The sight had the beginnings of a moan slipping from Victor before he could compose himself.

      Yuuri continued downward, heedless of the sounds that Victor made as he traced his tongue over the dips and curves of his body. When he reached his cock, Yuuri lapped delicately at the dribbling head before taking the entire length down his throat in one smooth motion.

      It quickly became apparent to Victor that Yuuri was very, very good at this. He kept his cheeks hollowed the entire time, and the slick confines of his throat swallowed continuously around Victor in a way that had him nearly begging in seconds flat. A flash of jealousy ran through him at the thought of Yuuri honing these skills on anyone else. Yet he undoubtedly had; he easily downed every last drop of Victor's cum, even though his orgasm was sudden and he hadn't managed to force out a warning.

      “Holy shit, Yuuri,” he gasped as his breath began to return. “Where did you learn that?”

       Yuuri glanced at him thoughtfully, swiping his hair out of his eyes, before turning to rummage in his bedside drawer. It was a moment before he answered.

      “Seedy alleys and back-room deals at some of my previous jobs. You know the kind.” His expression was tinged with sadness when he turned back to Victor. “Not all of the places I've worked were as nice as where I am now, and it's hard to say no when it's the difference between having money for groceries that week or going hungry.”

      Victor floundered for words for a moment, the elation of a moment ago having completely drained from him. Cursing his curiosity, he said “I'm… I'm sorry you had to go through that.” It was a mild statement, considering how very much he'd like to find those who'd bought and sold Yuuri's body and kick their teeth in; though he doubted very much that any of them would find him very intimidating at the moment.

      “Don't be,” Yuuri said softly. Victor felt his eyebrow raise slightly in response.

      “It led me to you,” came the simple reply.

      Tears pricked at Victor’s eyes. _Yeah, Baby, he’s the one for us,_ he thought, resting his hands on his stomach.

      For the first time he noticed what Yuuri had pulled from the drawer he’d been searching in. He was popping open the bottle of lube that he’d found, and had a condom jammed between two of his fingers. Victor promptly plucked the condom from Yuuri’s grip and tossed it onto the floor. He then ran his hands down the prominent curve in his middle, slowly, so as to draw Yuuri’s attention to it. He was rewarded when Yuuri swallowed thickly. “I think we’re a little beyond that, don’t you?” he asked with a wink. “I’m not getting any _more_ pregnant.”

      “V- Victor….Can I get started?” Yuuri asked, trying and failing to restrain the eagerness in his tone.

      Victor smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

      Yuuri’s fingers were softer than Victor would previously have imagined they could have been. They felt hot inside of him, and stretched his entrance in such a way that made him positively shiver with delight. He could feel his cock pinned against the underside of his belly, already leaking again. Pregnancy had made him sensitive of late, it seemed.

      His back was beginning to ache by the time that Yuuri had added a third finger to the mix. Yuuri’s free hand had wandered to his own erection, stroking himself lightly in time with the scissoring motions of his fingers, but he stopped when Victor spoke up.

      “Yuuri,” he groaned between tense breaths. “Yuuri, I need to move. It’s my back, I need to...to change positions.”

      There was a pause as Yuuri slipped his fingers free of Victor, leaving him feeling empty and cold.

      “And then, Yuuri, I need you inside me. I don’t know how much time we have left before my spine gives out completely,” he finished with a light laugh, though he was only half jesting.

      Moving carefully, Victor eased himself onto his hands and knees. Yuuri steadied him the entire time. With his belly hanging low beneath him, there was still a significant amount of strain on his back, but the change was welcome nonetheless. It was welcomed even more when he felt one of Yuuri’s hands cupping his bump from underneath, supporting some of the weight. He sighed at the touch, leaning into it gratefully and digging his fingers into the sheets.

      “Wow,” Yuuri murmured, “you seem even more round like this.”

      Victor’s only response was a needy moan.

      Slowly, gently, Yuuri began to ease into Victor. It seemed to Victor as though their breath hitched and hissed as one through the pressure, and picked up together into pleasant gasps when Yuuri began to thrust slowly in and out of the warm embrace of Victor’s body. His other hand came up to support Victor’s stomach as well, doing his best to keep it from jostling as the intensity of his thrusts began to increase.

      It occurred to Victor then that he had never had sex like this before. Actually, it would be more correct to say that he realized he had never really _made love_ before. With his ex, all of their physical intimacy could only be described as fucking, and half of said fucking was something one of them would start during an argument to deflect from the problems that riddled their relationship. Even the baby, he was sure, was the result of a fight over his ex’s lack of willingness to communicate.

      This was different. There were no harsh words, no slaps or scratches or bites that bordered on too hard. Everything was done with soft caresses and gentle words of praise that fell like music on Victor’s burning ears. Above all else, everything that Yuuri did was considerate. It was Victor’s first experience with a lover whose first priority seemed to be his pleasure rather than their own. Not that he was terribly hard to please at the moment, especially when it came to Yuuri; he could have done anything and Victor would have thought it amazing. Looking back on the encounter, Victor would later decide that afternoon could have been the worst lay of his life and he would still have placed it on a pedestal based only on whom it had been with.

      It was far from the worst, however. He couldn’t remember ever having cum untouched before that day, or shuddering quite so deeply upon feeling the warm stickiness of his partner’s cum flooding his body. He could feel it seeping into the most private crevices he possessed, and wished that he could subject it to his will and urge it further; he wanted desperately to keep that little bit of Yuuri inside of him as long as possible.

      Yuuri insisted on taking care of the cleaning up. It wasn’t as though Victor had much energy to resist, as he found himself struggling to stay awake while Yuuri wiped down his belly with a warm washcloth to clean the spots where his cock had painted it white.

      His back still hurt, but not terribly so, and it was made pleasantly warm when Yuuri’s chest pressed up against it as he snuggled into him from behind. Yuuri kept his hands to himself, though, and in Victor’s opinion that simply wouldn’t do.

      “I think Baby just woke up,” he remarked, trying to sound casual.

      Yuuri hummed, tickling Victor’s shoulder where his throat was tucked against it. “I’m kind of glad they were asleep until now.” He paused, and when he spoke again his voice had lost some of its confidence. “May I feel?”

      Victor nearly sighed in exasperation. Apparently he hadn’t been obvious enough. “Please, Yuuri, you don’t have to ask. I want to share this with you.” He took Yuuri’s hand in his, guiding it to the side of his stomach and pressing the fingers down over a tiny protrusion. “This is their hand, I think that’s what you felt at the park. Sometimes I wonder if they want to be a boxer, with how much they punch me.”

      “This is their little foot, all the way up here,” he said, sliding Yuuri’s hand along to a point near the top of his belly. “See how you can feel the point that their heel makes?”

      Yuuri just nodded, his chin dipping against Victor’s neck while a sense of breathless wonder radiated from him.

       Victor continued, moving their hands to the bottom of his belly, where the largest bulge could be felt just before the swell of the bump rejoined his torso. “And this is their head, down here. One of my books, _What to Expect When You’re Expecting,_ I think, said they’ve still got a fair bit of growing to do over the next eight weeks. It also said that Baby will stay upside down from now until birth, mostly, and they’ve moved down so far because we’re both getting ready for them to be born.”

      There was a pause, and Victor took a steadying breath before saying, “I want to share that with you too, you know.”

      Yuuri’s hand jumped under his when his meaning fully sank in. “Are you sure?” he asked, a shocked tone colouring his voice.

      Another pause, and then, quietly, “Do you not want to be there?”

      Victor jolted when Yuuri propped himself up on his elbow suddenly, squinting down at him with fierce determination in his eyes. “Of course I do! I just...I didn’t imagine that you’d want _me_ of all people.”

      He blinked up at Yuuri in surprise. “Yes, you, silly. I didn’t just let you cum inside me because I _don’t_ like you.”

      A blush dusted Yuuri’s cheeks, and he buried his face in Victor’s neck. “Don’t say those things around Baby! You know they can hear you, right?”

      Victor just laughed.  


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know this is really short but it felt awkward for me not to put a break between this bit and the next. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy, and as always, feedback is welcome!!

     The forty week mark came, the forty week mark went, and Victor was  _ still  _ pregnant. He was huge, irritable, and overall ready for this baby to be out of him. Yes, he had thoroughly enjoyed the sharing the last few months of his pregnancy with Yuuri, but it seemed to him that this was getting a little ridiculous. At almost a week overdue, he felt as though Baby had definitely overstayed its welcome, and he was certainly looking to evict it from its current housing. 

     The worst part of it all wasn't the swollen ankles, the tortured spine, or even the awful hormones that could have him crying one moment and laughing the next. No, the worst was that he hadn't been able to spend as much time with Yuuri as he would have liked to over the past two weeks or so. His boyfriend had been picking up as much extra stage time at the club as possible, and because of his popularity there was no shortage of demand for his performances.

     Victor knew it was necessary. Yuuri wasn't exactly struggling to make ends meet, but he wasn't what one would call well-off, either. He needed the money, especially if he was going to be taking work a little lighter to spend more time at Chris’ place once the baby was born. They'd agreed that he wouldn't take any more private dances, though, and would start working as one of the bartenders when he wasn't performing to make up the cash.

     It was beginning to feel like Victor's life had become a dual waiting game. He alternated constantly between waiting for the baby to come and waiting for Yuuri to visit him. Even now he was staring down the clock in the corner of his phone screen, waiting for it to strike right hour so that Yuuri's shift could end and they could be together again. He was working the early shift, which took place in the afternoon, but there were still a few hours before that would finish up.

    Victor looked up hopefully from Chris’ couch when he heard the front door open; perhaps they had let Yuuri off early! He could feel his expression fall when Chris stepped through the door instead, shutting it softly behind him.

     “Sorry I was longer than I thought I would be,” Chris said, walking to stand behind Victor. “Lunch ran late.”

     Chris placed his hands on Victor's shoulders, and Victor responded by leaning forward as much as he could in unspoken consent. It was difficult and he had to spread his legs around his belly to manage it, but an offer to have his back rubbed wasn't something he could pass up these days.

     Victor couldn't help it. He let out a long, low moan when Chris put his hands to work, feeling himself melt under his best friend's fingers as they began to massage the muscles of his upper back.

     “Have you moved at all since I left?“ Chris asked, for once sounded genuinely curious instead of teasing.

     “I've moved! I mean, only to the fridge and the bathroom and back…. But you try getting off this couch with a nine-something pound baby in your gut! And that's not even counting the rest of the weight-”

     Chris raised his hands in submission, and Victor nearly growled. “You put those hands back on me this instant, so help me God.”

     Knowing better than to argue, Chris complied. He squinted at Victor's phone, where it had been discarded on the couch next to him. It would probably have been sitting on his belly if not for his leaning forward; Chris had noticed over the past few weeks that his friend had made a habit of resting just about anything on it, though this was something he'd neglected to point out.

     “And I'm sure,” he said carefully, “that reading articles like  _ 8 Ways to Take Your Mind Off an Overdue Pregnancy _ is helping you tremendously to do just that.”

     “The only good suggestion on the whole thing was eating pineapple, and that's supposed to help induce labour. But if it's about inducing labour, how is that supposed to help me to  _ not _ think about all of this?” Victor asked with a huff. “I still ate what we had, but all that did was give Baby a craving for fruit.”

     "We had two whole pineapples, Victor.”

     “ _ Had  _ being the operative word there,” he clarified helpfully.

     They spent a few moments in silence while Chris worked his way slowly and methodically down Victor's back. When he reached the lower portion, his friend jolted slightly and hissed.

     Afraid that he'd hurt him, Christophe darted around the couch and knelt in front of the other man. “Are you okay?”

     “The muscles are tense, that's all,” Victor said, looking at Chris through his bangs. His blue eyes sparkled with mirth. “You were pretty rattled by that, Giacometti.”

     “How could I not be rattled, Nikiforov? You look like a victim of that old wive’s tale about swallowing the watermelon seed.” Chris let out a small relieved laugh. “You're sure you're not gonna pop?”

     “Not right now, unfortunately.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little insight into Yuuri's perspective of the events that have taken place so far.

     Yuuri had been searching for someone in his life, he just hadn’t known it.  _ Had _ he known it, he would definitely never have guessed that they would have been six months pregnant and sitting in a stage side seat at one of his shows. 

      He’d been intrigued by Victor from the moment that he spotted him with Chris. He clearly hadn’t wanted to be there, at least not in the beginning, and he had a sort of sad air around him that belied his physical beauty. And he was beautiful. Yuuri had never seen someone with such a crisp jaw and handsome face. The shape of his body and the way that the man carried himself suggested to Yuuri that before his pregnancy, he’d been quite athletic. Now in place of the abs that Yuuri was sure had once been there was the most adorable baby bump pressing against the nice button-down he’d squeezed it into. Yuuri felt as though his entire performance that night consisted of him trying not to imagine what this stranger looked like without that shirt on. He’d walked off stage afterwards, trying desperately to clear his head and focus on something, anything other than the gorgeous man in the audience. 

      If he succeeded at all, it hadn’t been for long. When Chris had entered the private room with the attractive stranger, it had taken everything that Yuuri had to maintain his disinterested attitude. He never knew whether or not Victor realized the effect that giving that dance had had on him. Perhaps he thought that Yuuri said such things to all of his customers, or that he always fled the room so soon after the music halted. In truth, he often mingled with his clients for a few moments afterwards; that had been the basis of his relationship with Chris at first, after all. In this case, though, he felt the need to leave the room before he got himself into any more potential trouble.

      The dancers weren’t supposed to let even private performances get out of hand enough that the client actually came. There had to be boundaries in place, for the protection of everybody involved. Truth be told, Yuuri hadn’t realized at first how sensitive this man was, and once he did he found he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to stop. The way that the man gasped and writhed underneath him with every little touch was downright intoxicating. Yuuri went too far, and he loved every second of it. 

      He told himself that the stranger’s attractiveness had been what caused him to cast his professionalism aside for those few minutes; if he chanted it in his head over and over, he could almost force himself to believe it. But the comments about his belly? About breeding him? That had surprised Yuuri, even as the words left his mouth. 

      Most surprising of all, though, had been the small piece of paper that fluttered free of his stockings when he slipped them off. He’d picked it up,turning it over and considering what it said. 

       _Victor,_ he’d mused. The stranger could have been a Victor, he’d thought, meaning the number scribbled underneath the name was likely his. But when would he have slipped Yuuri the note? His mind then flashed back to Chris’ hand resting on the small of his back, in the perfect position to tuck the note away. _Chris, you fox._

      Whether or not to call the number had never been a question at all. He wanted to know more about this man, whether his name was really Victor, what he liked to do in his spare time, what is favourite colour was, of course whether or not Yuuri could be allowed to touch that beautiful body of his again. The thought had his cheeks burning, but not entirely from arousal. It was fine to make such intense comments as he had in the moment, but would Victor, if that was his name, be awkward about it later on? 

      No, the matter was not _whether_ to call Victor, it was much more a matter of _when._ Too soon, and Yuuri would seem desperate; too late, though, and it would look as though he weren’t interested in the first place. He decided in the end that it would be best to wait until a couple of days later, and make it seem as though he were neither desperate nor lax in his pursuit of the stranger.

      It turned out that by “a couple of days later,” he meant first thing the next morning. Yuuri’s heart leapt into his throat upon hearing the stranger’s voice on the other end, and he gagged over his greeting long enough that he was sure he would be hung up on. He managed, though he wasn’t sure how, to speak long enough to get Victor to agree to meet for coffee the next day. Was it just wishful thinking, or did the other man seem just as eager?

      He was instantly smitten upon meeting at the cafe they’d specified the day before. Victor was kind, outgoing, and so well spoken that Yuuri felt as though he could listen to him for hours. He had the kind of personality that could wrap anyone around his finger, it seemed, and Yuuri was perfectly fine with being a victim of that charm. 

      He was less fine, though, with how strange it suddenly felt to him to even consider talking about Victor’s pregnancy. Victor had ordered the wrong coffee at first, and as soon as he rubbed his belly and corrected his order to decaf with a smile, it occurred to Yuuri just _how_ far over the line he may have gone. How could he have said such things about something, _someone_ so adorable? He should have just kept his damned mouth shut. Yuuri had continued to berate himself long after he and Victor had parted ways that evening, and even debated not meeting with him again. The thought of Victor’s crestfallen face quickly dashed that idea though, and it soon became routine for them to meet every other day or so. Still, try as he might, Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to ask Victor even such simple questions about the baby as whether or not he knew the gender.

      About two months passed this way, with the two of them getting closer faster than Yuuri would have thought possible. He began to sense a frustration building in Victor, though, and it peaked when they met for ice cream in Yuuri’s favourite park. 

      “Come here, Yuuri,” he’d said, gesturing to his bump. It had grown quite a lot since they had first met, a fact that had not been lost on Yuuri. “You want to touch it, right? If you want to, just come here and do it.” 

       _That_ was what Victor had been frustrated about? Yuuri just barely refrained from nervous laughter. Instead, he tried to turn down the chance that he’d been hoping for. 

      “Ah, n-no, I couldn’t,” he’d stammered, his habitual politeness forcing the wrong answer from him before he could stop it. 

      Victor hadn’t bought it for a moment. He’d seen through Yuuri instantaneously, confronting the issue head-on with an enthusiasm that Yuuri couldn’t help but envy. 

      Yuuri had never felt a baby move within its mother before. He hadn’t been sure of what to expect, but the moment he felt the soft shifting under his hand he knew that this was an experience he wouldn’t soon forget. 

      He’d looked up at Victor, whose face had lit up with joy, and felt something hard and determined solidifying within himself. He wanted this man, he was sure of it. Not just physically, though he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t still harbour a lust for Victor. No, he wanted to make Victor smile like this again and again, for years to come.

      Even with his own decision made, it still struck Yuuri by surprise that Victor evidently felt the same way. Though he was shocked at Victor’s revealing that he wanted him present at the birth, he knew that it wasn’t an offer he could turn down. If just feeling Baby move was such an amazing experience, he could only imagine what it would be like to be the first person to welcome them into the world. He couldn’t remember ever having felt as elated as he did laying there that night, falling asleep with Victor warm in his arms and his belly smooth and heavy between his hands.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, I'm sorry about that. But I promise, things will pick up soon!

     “Yuuri...Yuuri!” Phichit smacked his hand against the bar, startling his friend out of his reverie. “You’ve been polishing that stretch of bar for twenty minutes.”

      Yuri hummed, plucking a glass off of the counter and beginning to clean it. “Sorry, I don’t know where my mind was.” 

      Phichit laughed. “I’m sure I do. You had that far-off, daydreaming look that you always have when you’re thinking of that cute little baby-mama of yours!”

      “Victor, Phichit, his name is Victor,” Yuuri said with a sigh as he set the glass down again. Not that anybody around the club called him that anymore; ever since Yuuri had introduced him to Phichit the Thai dancer’s nickname for him had become the only way any of the club staff referred to him. Victor hadn’t been of any help to Yuuri in trying to change that. He’d seemed to think of the nickname as more of an honorary title than anything else, to the point that even Christophe had joined in on the fun. 

     “Yeah, he’s Victor, and he’s your baby-mama,” Phichit quipped, leaning against the bar with a cheeky smile. 

      Yuuri groaned. “He’s my boyfriend-”

      “Who’s pregnant.”

      “Yes,” said Yuuri, exasperated. “With a baby that-”

      Phichit cut in again. “That you _wish_ was yours, even if it isn’t. Face it, he’s your baby-mama. Everyone else accepts it.”

      “You’re hopeless,” said Yuuri, sighing with mock anger. It was hard to actually be angry when everything Phichit was saying was true.

      “And _you’re_ hopelessly in love.”

       _That_ was definitely true as well, and Yuuri knew it. Everyone else appeared to know it too. Phichit wasn’t the only one to have said that they could tell when Yuuri was thinking about Victor. It wasn’t exactly as though he could help it, though. Victor’s charm had such a hold on Yuuri that sometimes he would find himself ensnared in it at completely random times. Just now, for example, he’d been wiping a handprint off of the bar when he had started thinking that he’d much rather be rubbing down Victor’s shoulders than the gleaming wooden surface of the counter. His train of thought had then swerved and he’d found himself thinking instead about the way that Victor’s smile shone almost as brightly as the bar. He probably would have continued drifting from one Victor-related topic to another if Phichit hadn’t interrupted him.

      “Yuuri! You’re doing it again!” Phichit’s voice pulled Yuuri back to reality for what had to be the fifth time that day. 

      “Hm? What did you say?” he asked, still distracted. 

      “I _said_ ,” Phichit huffed, “that I’m finished practicing my new routine so I can finish the prep back here if you want to practice. Not like you seem to need practice these days anyway, you’ve been absolutely on fire! The other night you swept up so much cash I thought you’d never finish pulling it out of your waistband.”

      “Mhm, I did do well.” 

      “Always the modest one, Yuuri,” said Phichit. “Your dancing has been amazing lately. I mean, you were always good but it’s like you’ve….bloomed or something cheesy like that. You know what I mean?”

      Yuuri did know what he meant, and he could attribute it to one event; the day that he and Victor had gone to the park for ice cream, and more specifically what they had done after they had returned to his apartment. 

      He’d had no shortage of sexual encounters prior to sleeping with Victor, but he’d never before been so _involved_. At the most, there had been some times that he had found he was lost in pleasure; being with Victor was something entirely different. Yuuri was overflowing with emotion the entire time, and had since found he was able to channel that emotion into his routines.     

     He'd always felt sexy on stage, but now when he performed he felt  _ alive  _ with the memory of Victor's hands on his body. As the performance continued Yuuri would nurture and grow that feeling by focusing on how amazing it had felt to be with Victor that first time. Not being  _ inside _ him, specifically, but being so intimate with him. The rush of exhilaration he'd felt when he had finally been able to fully explore his hunger for Victor had been one of the most incredible things he'd experienced in his life. 

      While he whirled around the pole, thrills would continue to prickle Yuuri's spine as he recalled the way Victor's skin tasted under his lips, how Victor had moaned so delightfully when Yuuri had kissed his bump. 

      He'd been told by the other dancers that his dances had become more raw and emotional, but they were a thousand times more recognizable as indisputably _him._ That was understandable; after imbuing his feelings into his movements to such a degree he often felt as though he'd laid himself completely bare for the audience. 

      Phichit took the glass Yuuri was cleaning from his hand, tugging the polishing cloth free of his grip a second later, and placed the glass with its fellows. He flicked the cloth at Yuuri, chuckling he twitched comically away from it. 

      “So when are you gonna tell your baby-mama what all of these extra shifts are actually about?” Phichit asked, raising an eyebrow in interest. “You know you'll have to tell him sometime, right? I mean the impression that it's just to make ends meet won't last forever. He's going to figure out that something’s up. Besides, getting him to agree to this will involve actually _asking_ him, you know.”

      Yuuri sighed. This topic had come up a couple of times between him and his friend. Phichit had been curious as to why Yuuri was working so many hours. As usual, he'd found it impossible to stave off Phichit's questions for any period of time and had ended up divulging everything. 

      “Of course I'm going to tell him,” Yuuri answered. A hint of stress crept into his voice. “Just not now. He's got a lot going on, and I have to wait for the right moment, you know?”

      “I know that you want to put this off as long as you can.” Glancing at the clock, Phichit said, “Speaking of putting off, you really do need to go warm up now, if you're going to start on time.” 

      Yuuri nodded in agreement, slipping out from behind the bar and heading towards the dressing rooms to change into his practice clothes. “See you later, Phichit.”

      Phichit grinned devilishly. “Wait, Yuuri! Do you want me to call your baby-mama and see if he wants to help you get warmed up?”

      “ _See you later, Phichit_ ,” Yuuri said again, much to his friend's enjoyment. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While we're passing the POV around, here's Chris' chance in the limelight

     Chris pulled Yuuri aside as soon as he stepped through his door that night, whisking him away before he had a chance to wake Victor, who had fallen asleep on the couch an hour or so earlier. That had recently become Victor’s favourite place to be between Yuuri’s visits, though they were so frequent they could hardly be called that anymore; Yuuri’s apartment was basically un-lived in these days, after all. Chris’ best guess was that Victor preferred the couch because it let him stake out the front door easily, and it’s L- shaped design allowed the heavily pregnant man to test out the comfort of a myriad of different sleeping positions.

      “Yuuri, go the kitchen and get some to eat, right now, and _quietly_. Maybe chug a bottle of water while you’re at it,” Chris said, leaning close to Yuuri’s ear and speaking in a low voice.

      “What, why?”

      “Because I know you don’t bring food to work, and Victor has been talking all day about ways to stimulate labour, so I think you can guess where this is going…” he trailed off when Yuuri gulped audibly, nodding. “With how loudly you two go at it sometimes, I know that you don’t mind helping him out... But still, I don’t think that you fancy passing out just because he wouldn’t give you a break.”

      It seemed to Chris that Yuuri saw the wisdom in his words, because he left the coat room as though one misstep would cause the house to explode. He all but tiptoed around the edge of the room, slipping silently into the kitchen. 

      Chris folded himself into an armchair, picking up a book from the end table while Victor continued to snore softly. He didn’t dare turn the television on, not only for Yuuri’s sake, but for Victor’s as well. He hardly got any restful sleep these days, it seemed. While it was fun to watch his belly wobble and shift on its own while Victor was awake, the fact that it continued to do so even while he was trying to rest seemed to make sleeping the hardest part of his friend’s day. There had been more than one night where Chris had found himself sighing in relief and sympathy when he realized that Victor finally seemed to have dozed off. 

      About another half hour passed before Victor began to stir, groaning. He stretched, groan rising in pitch when his back inevitably complained. He yawned and rested his hands on his bump before spotting Chris in his chair. 

      Chris felt his face soften into a smile at Victor’s sleepy expression. When Victor had first come to stay with him four months before, he’d been livid. Not at Victor himself, of course, but with his ex. Victor could be difficult at times, infuriating, even, but he was still a good person at heart. Chris would even go so far as to call him a _golden_ person, one that deserved to be cherished and protected. If his ex didn’t see that, then maybe they needed to have their head smacked off a wall until they did. 

      At the very least, Chris hadn’t trusted the man to treat Victor properly; he’d only remained silent on the matter because his friend always seemed so happy. A part of him would always regret not reaching out to Victor. He couldn’t help but think that if he’d done that then perhaps Victor would have come to his senses about his relationship sooner and avoided some of the hurt that had come to him. 

      He was very conflicted on the matter though, because another part of him was so, so grateful for the last few months, and because of that he couldn’t be entirely bitter about the events that had made this situation come to be. He’d gotten to spend more time with his best friend over the past four months than he had in years, if ever. Not only that, but he’d also gotten the chance to see Victor blossom from someone who was scared and uncertain into a confident young mother, eagerly awaiting the arrival of their first child. And of course, a large part of that transition had been due to Yuuri’s support.

      Despite his usual lack of shame, even Chris was rather bashful when it came to admitting to how much time he’d spent getting to know Yuuri in the backrooms of the club he was employed at. He’d been interested in the dancer, once upon a time, but fairly quickly realized that he was better suited to someone that didn’t have to slip into an act to be bold. Truth be told, he still wasn’t sure why Yuuri was the first person that came to mind when he’d started thinking about people to set Victor up with. All he’d known was that he had a good feeling about it as soon as the idea had sprouted in his mind, and that he’d regret it later if he didn’t at least try. 

      Victor yawned again, rubbing one of his eyes and pushing his hair back from his face. “Chris, what time is it? Has Yuuri come h-”

      He cut off with a little excited gasp when he spotted Yuuri, who was just finishing up the container of noodles he’d heated up. “Yuuri! Chris, quick! Help me up!” 

      Requests like that were pretty standard by this point, as was evidenced by the way that Chris complied without complaint. He was pretty sure that he felt a few of Victor’s joints crack as he pulled him to his feet, and heard a few more do the same as he waddled into the kitchen to greet Yuuri. 

      Chris felt a smile tug at his lips as he watched the two of them interact. Seeing his two lovestruck idiots together was always a bit of an experience. It was as though they were so wrapped up in each other that they didn’t notice anything else. In that moment, Chris was pretty sure that he could have been banging pots and pans together and neither of them would have spared it a glance. He often felt a little excluded when they were together; not by any will of theirs, of course, but by his own. Sometimes it seemed to him as though his speaking would be intruding on them. A strange thought, considering it was usually his own house that this happened in. At the same time, though, those sorts of moments left him feeling oddly...privileged, in a sense. Like he was getting an opportunity to view something precious that he ought not to turn down.

      Victor’s hands were blocked from Chris’ sight by the marble counter that served to separate the kitchen and living area; as such, he couldn’t see what Victor did to make Yuuri jump and redden in a rather spectacular manner. One moment Yuuri was leaning casually on a counter, and the next Victor was ushering him towards the guest room. Victor paused on the way to throw a wink over his shoulder at Chris, who sighed and made a mental note to put his earplugs in before bed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> um. Just like a thousand words of kind-of smut? also did those tags say "slight" belly kink? I think that may have been inaccurate.

     The door had barely closed behind them before Victor was turning on Yuuri, pinning him against the smooth wooden surface and pressing their mouths together. His lips were soft on Yuuri’s, but insistent, needy. Yuuri found himself swallowing back a deep groan as Victor broke the kiss, backing up towards the bed and tugging his shirt off over his head as he went. He followed suit, tossing his own shirt carelessly to the side.

     It was all Yuuri could do to keep from gaping as he watched Victor crawl onto the mattress. God, he looked amazing like this. He watched as Victor pulled his sweats down, tantalizingly slow, before settling into a kneeling position, his belly resting heavily between his spread thighs. He reached a hand out towards Yuuri, and Yuuri was suddenly taken aback by how much he seemed to glow in the dim lighting of the guest room. 

    “Yuuri, why are you still all the way over there?” Victor asked, his arm still extended. “Is something wrong?”

     Yuuri shook his head, stepped forward, and took Victor’s hand, easing himself onto the bed alongside him. “No,” he answered truthfully. “Just admiring the view.”

     Victor chuckled, running his free hand over his bump. “I’m glad you enjoy it so much.”

     “How could I not?” Yuuri sidled up behind Victor, mouth brushing his ear as he spoke. “You’re like… a god of fertility, Vitya, so beautiful and round and full of life.” The words had an effect on Yuuri as soon as he spoke them, sending a line of arousal slithering through his gut to pool low and warm in his stomach.

     “Really?” Victor’s hair tickled Yuuri’s face as he turned his head to look at him, eyes shining. “Chris thinks I just look like I have a watermelon growing in here.”

     “Chris is blind.”

     He caught Victor’s lips with his own again, effectively ending the discussion. This kiss was more desperate than the last, with each of them letting their want flow openly into their motions. They were both breathless by the time that Victor pulled away again.

     There was an edge to Victor’s voice when he spoke, a clear sign to Yuuri that the time his boyfriend had allotted for warming up was quickly ending.

     "Touch me, Yuuri. Put your hands on me, please.”

     There wasn’t a chance that Yuuri could hold back the moan that bubbled up in his throat at the sound of Victor’s begging. He obliged, slipping his hand downwards and taking hold of  Victor’s already-hard cock, barely managing to stroke it once before a hand gripped his wrist, stopping him.

     “N- no, Yuuri, not there,” Victor gasped out. He guided Yuuri’s hand, carefully and deliberately, until it cupped the side of his belly. “Here, touch me here.”

     The skin was warm and soft to Yuuri’s touch, smooth save for the faint stretch marks that spanned some of the surface like a labyrinth of little silver lightning bolts. He traced one of the marks, following it down the side of Victor’s stomach and back again. Victor seemed to melt into his hands as he repeated the motion, relaxing back against Yuuri’s chest and allowing him to support more of his weight.

     An idea sparked in the back of Yuuri’s mind, one whose appeal he simply couldn’t deny. He slid his hand up to Victor’s navel, teasing it between his fingers. Victor tossed his head back and moaned, the sound resonating deeply with Yuuri. It felt as though it both sent shivers down his spine and lit his blood on fire all at once. It urged Yuuri on; he ran the pad of his thumb over the little bump, bringing his other hand up to palm the underside of Victor’s stomach. He could feel Victor hard and leaking against the back of his hand, and couldn’t help but wonder if it was possible to get him off just like this.

     Yuuri was so wrapped up in his motions that he was unable to recall when Victor had started saying his name. By the time he noticed, his name was falling from Victor’s flushed lips like a frenzied prayer; a chant in a ritual to bolster Yuuri’s confidence and drive him onward.

     Yuuri was harder than he could ever remember being. Victor’s voice, growing higher in pitch and more frenzied, seemed to go straight to his cock. He restrained himself from entering Victor, though. The quaking of his lover’s body underneath his fingers suggested to Yuuri that he was more than happy as he was.

     The back of his hand nudged the head of Victor’s dick again as he rubbed another soft circle over Victor’s bump, and he savoured the way that Victor’s breath caught in his throat as he came. Ropes of cum painted Yuuri’s hand, dripping thickly onto the mattress below as Victor’s back heaved in a struggle to regain his breath.

     “Yuuri,” Victor moaned softly between gasps, “that was amazing! How did you do that?”

     Yuuri felt a blush colour his cheeks, and he smiled against Victor’s neck. The taste of his skin was sharp with sweat and sex, but not unpleasant. “I don’t know. You seemed like you liked it, so I did what felt right.”

     “Liked it? Yuuri, I’ve never felt anything like that, and you hardly even touched me!”

     He nuzzled further into Victor’s neck before responding. “I touched you lots, just not in the conventional places.”

 

Victor was quiet for a moment, and then, “Mhm, Yuuri, I think those those conventional places wouldn’t mind being touched either, you know.”


	9. Chapter 9

 It was around 3am when Victor's pacing finally drew Chris out of bed. He'd been awake for a while, listening to the soft creaking of the floorboards as Victor made his way slowly up and down the hallway. Occasionally it sounded like he did a lap of the living area before returning to his regular route. Most of the time, it was only the shuffling of his feet that alerted Chris to his presence, but on the odd pass it seemed to Chris that Victor's breathing sounded a little laboured as well.

 Victor jumped when Chris ambushed him on his next pass, leaning sleepily on the doorway to the master room. “For someone who said it was too tiring to walk from the couch to the kitchen, it seems like you’ve had no trouble wearing down my floorboards.”

 There was no response for a moment. Though Victor’s features were blurred in the darkness, Chris knew he was pausing to gauge whether or not he should be offended. “Sorry, I’m just restless,” came the reply.

 Chris squinted, trying to see his friend better. He sounded exhausted, which Chris supposed was par for the course at this point, but he also sounded sort of...strained. There was an edge to his voice that Chris wasn’t accustomed to hearing. It was disconcerting.

 “Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” He eyed Victor again, more carefully this time, noting the sag in his shoulders. “You look a little rough, my friend. Why don’t you come sit down with me for a bit?”

 Victor paused again, considering. “I don’t want to bother you.”

 He picked up on the meaning of Chris’ flat stare even in the gloom of the unlit hallway. “Okay, okay, I’ll come in.”

 A moment later, Chris was helping Victor to ease onto his bed. A good deal of groaning and maneuvering later, and he was curled up on his side, tucked securely against the pregnancy pillow that Chris had pulled from the closet a minute before. There was one stored in the closet of every room in case of emergency naps, as Chris liked to call them. 

 He settled onto the bed next to Victor, in what little space that was left beside the massive pillow. Glancing over at his resting form, he said “I’m surprised you didn’t wake Yuuri up as well. Did you really tire him out that much?”

 Victor shifted around again for a moment before answering. “I’m not. You know that boy sleeps like the dead, sex aside.”

  Chris’ brow furrowed. There was notable strain in his friend’s voice once again. It wasn’t like Victor to actually let his stressors become visible, or audible in this case. Instead of taking action, Chris turned on the television, flipping it to a channel that they both liked. Victor knew he could confide in him;  if it were something worth talking about then Victor would talk to him when he was ready. That had been his general attitude when it came to supporting Victor through all the years he’d known him, and it hadn’t led him astray so far. The only way that he felt that approach wouldn’t work was if the situation was of a much larger scale than anything they’d worked through before.

 Twenty or so minutes later it became very apparent that yes, this was a situation of more gravity than any Chris had dealt with before. Victor had been in the midst of griping about the frequent commercial breaks in the program when he had cut himself off mid-sentence, biting back a curse and gripping his belly with one hand.

 Chris wasn’t sure how he got round to Victor’s side of the bed so quickly. Victor would later tell him that he’d all but vaulted over him in his haste. He knelt down, taking Victor’s free hand. His grip was like iron, and he was grimacing in pain.

 As soon as his breath returned to him, Victor answered Chris’ pending question preemptively. “It’s fine, I’m fine,” he managed as he struggled to maintain even breathing. “Just a little cramp, I’m sure.”

 “What? Victor!” Chris exclaimed. “How long have you been having these _little cramps?!”_

He closed his eyes, thinking. “A couple of hours, maybe?”

 “Victor, oh my ever-loving God!” He wasn’t a religious man, but at that point Chris was most definitely asking whatever deities there may be to give him the strength to deal with his friend’s rather idiotic decision to ignore what were most likely contractions. “You’re having a baby, for Christ’s sake, why are we just sitting in my bedroom?”

 Victor opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it shut again before he could say anything. An awkward expression settled over his features.

 “What, what is it?” Chris asked, a frantic tone creeping into his voice.

 “Either I just wet myself in your bed….or you’re right and this kid has finally decided it’s time.”

 Chris reached over Victor, pawing the bed behind him. A startled sound escaped him when he found the sheets soaking wet. “Shit.”

 “Shit,” Victor agreed solemnly.

 “Alright, Nikiforov, up you get,” Chris said as he stood up. “We’ve gotta get you to the hospital. These sheets are silk, you’re sorely mistaken if you think you’re having this baby on them.”

 “Yuuri, you have to get Yuuri,” Victor insisted. “We can’t leave without him.”

 “Don’t worry little mama, I won’t forget your precious boy-toy.”

 A loud knocking at the guest room door woke Yuuri. Blinking at the clock, he saw that it was just after three-thirty in the morning. He groaned, rolling so as to face away from the door. “Do you know what time it is, Victor?”

 He was surprised when Chris’ voice answered him instead. “Yuuri I know you want your beauty sleep, but this isn’t really the kind of thing that you can put off,” he said, opening the door and flooding the room with bright light from the hallway. “I’ve had enough of _someone_ trying to put it off already. Seriously, between him and that baby I’m surprised any of us can get anything done in decent time.”

 “What are you talking about?” Yuuri asked, his brain still fuzzy with sleep.

 “Yuuri, Victor’s in labour. Like none of this false-contraction stuff. There is going to be an actual baby coming out of him in the next day.”

 Yuuri’s hands scrabbled across his bedside table as he searched for his glasses. He blinked again, straightening them on his face before looking up at Chris. “Victor’s in labour?”

 Chris sighed, visibly far too tired to spell it all out again. “Yes, he is.”

 “Shit.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> settin shit up before we get down to business, again

     Yuuri was never a morning person. Usually his waking consisted of lots of groaning, rolling over, and pretending he hadn’t heard his alarm. Even being out of bed wasn’t an indicator of being fully awake; it often took several cups of coffee and close to an hour before he could be considered functioning.

     That wasn’t the case this morning. It turned out that being told your boyfriend was in labour had a much more energizing effect than even the most potent espresso. He’d all but bolted out of bed, struggling into his clothes and fumbling with each and every item in his haste. It seemed like an eternity before he was dashing out of the house towards Chris’ car.

     Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat when he saw Victor settling into the back of the car, almost halting him in his tracks. Oh, God, this was really happening. Finally happening.

     Victor smiled, soft and uncertain, when Yuuri slid into the car as well, accidentally closing the door with a little more force than was wholly necessary.

     The drive to the hospital felt like it took forever. Being the middle of the night, there wasn't any traffic, but it seemed as though they managed to hit every single red light possible as they made their way through town.

     The lady seated at the desk marked help looked up as they entered the maternity ward. Chris gave her Victor's information, as the man himself was busy crushing Yuuri's hand to powder while the latest contraction tormented him.

     The woman tapped at her keyboard for a moment, her brow furrowing at the information she brought up. “I'm afraid the premium birthing suites you toured during your orientation are all in use at the moment.”

     Yuuri felt panic begin to rise in his chest before squashing it back down. Victor had to be nervous; he himself couldn't afford to be.

     Chris, it seemed, had no such luck in controlling his emotions. “What do you suggest, then?” he snapped. “The waiting room floor?”

     The lady showed no reaction to his biting tone, a testament to the patience born of a long time dealing with childbirth and all the high tensions that came with it.

     “I said the suites that you toured are unavailable, not that we don't have any place for your friend here.” She typed something else into her computer before continuing. “We have some much more standard rooms available on a separate hallway. They're slightly less comfortable, but I can assure you they're still fully equipped, and the staff there are no less capable. Just give me a moment to let them know you’re headed their way.”

     She then made a short phone call, outlining their situation to the receiving staff member in a short and precise manner. With that, Yuuri, Victor, and Chris found themselves directed down a hallway towards a set of double-doors. On the other side was a rather bare looking hallway; Yuuri squinted against the harsh industrial lighting as he looked around for they were heading for.

     Something was slightly different about this wing of the hospital, though it took Yuuri a moment to put his finger on just what it was. Aside from the obvious aesthetic differences- for these plain white tiles and boring beige walls were a far cry from the elegant and homey feel of the wing they had previously toured- the people here were markedly different. While it was often times difficult to make accurate assumptions about individuals based on their appearance, it seemed safe to conclude that the patients and their families being looked after in this area were not from the same fortunate lot of life as Victor and Chris. Many of them appeared to be laborers and such, and more than a few were dressed in clothes that had seen far better days.

     A nurse was walking towards them with the brisk pace that those in health care always seem to develop; the kind of gait that Yuuri had always associated with those who have lots to do and not much time to do it in.

     “Mr. Nikiforov?” she asked as she drew near. Her voice was clipped, but not unkind. Victor nodded in response. “Right then. Follow me, and let’s get you settled.”

     She led them around a corner, then further down a second hallway before turning into an open room. Yuuri helped Victor to sit down on the edge of the bed near the center of the room, noting that his hair was beginning to stick to his forehead in a light sheen of sweat.

     Straightening, Yuuri took in the room, unable to stop a small wave of anxiety and disappointment from washing over him as he did so. The room that they had booked weeks in advance had featured a comfortable couch for friends and family, a water cooler, and even a microwave, among other comforts. Not only did this room not possess any of those luxuries; even the equipment looked minimal, appearing to consist only of a few different monitors, some sterilized tools, and a pre-prepared bag of IV fluids.

     Apparently, he wasn't the only one who had such concerns. Chris was looking around the room as well, hands on his hips. It struck Yuuri, not for the first time, how capable Chris was of looking like a critical housewife when the situation was right. "Are you sure this place is as functional as the other? I think we can all agree that we'd rather our friend have a top of the line experience, if at all possible."

     Yuuri flinched a little. While Chris had dropped the sharp tones he'd used with the receptionist, the somewhat abrasive subtext did more than enough to make up for their absence.

     When she spoke again, her voice had warmed a little, instead of becoming icier, as Yuuri might have expected. "That's not an uncommon way to think, for people in your friend's situation. We see it all the time when the more expensive rooms are all in use. You see, Mr....?" She trailed off in a questioning manner, quirking an eyebrow at Chris.

     "Giacometti, Mr. Giacometti."

     "You see, Mr. Giacometti," she continued, bustling around the room to turn on and test the various bits of machinery, "you may have noticed that the people who regularly use this part of our facility are, how should I put this? Not as... well off as you and your friend here. That means that a lot of the people giving birth here have had little to no prenatal care, and as such have some of the highest risk deliveries that we as a facility can handle. The staff in this wing are hand-picked accordingly. Victor here is in very good hands."

     That made sense, at least to Yuuri, who found his worries reasonably settled. Chris, whose anxiety about the impending situation was apparently only partially calmed, simply said, "He'd better be."


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I guess you can kind of dedicate this chapter to that one anon that mentioned wanting a chapter with birth and Yuuri being supportive, though I'm not really sure this fulfills their expectations, lol.

     This was so, so much worse than the birthing class had made it seem. Victor hadn't even known that he possessed most the places that now screamed complaints at him, much less that they could ever be in this damned much pain. Sure, he had understood that childbirth wasn't exactly a walk in the park, but he hadn't expected it to feel as though he'd been catapulted straight into the seventh circle of his own personal hell. 

     And the restraint. Oh, the restraint was arguably the worst part, in his humble opinion. Victor had never really considered himself to be very gifted in the area of denying one's personal interests; in fact, he found it to be one of the most difficult tasks that humans regularly forced upon themselves. This was no different. Every fibre of his being told him to bear down and push, while every one of the professionals in the bustling room told him it wasn't yet time. They seemed to feel that informing him of how dilated he was backed up their statements when in reality all that it did was lengthen the hours as the number they told him crept up by measly intervals. 

     At first, there hadn't been too terribly much action in the room. The nurse with whom they had first met had taken the liberty helping Victor to get changed into a gown, a feat that his belly would have would have made difficult to achieve on his own even before labour. She'd then set about getting him hooked up to the various machines in the room; though he hadn’t found the process of sticking sensors to his stomach all that enjoyable, by that point he was too deep in another contraction to rank it very high on his list of priorities. Another nurse, this one a man, had entered only long enough to start an IV in Victor’s left forearm. After that, there had been nothing to do but settle into the current cycle of torture. Contract, recover, wait, and repeat.

     It was only during the brief reprieves that Victor found he was able to almost catch his breath and focus long enough to form coherent thoughts. Some of this time he spent making small talk with Chris in an attempt to quell the obvious nerves radiating from his friend. Said attempts were evidently see-through and completely ineffective, judging by the fact that any smiles or general lightheartedness from Chris were few and far between.

     Most of the time, though, he spent the minutes between contractions interacting with Yuuri. They didn’t speak much, apart from Yuuri’s consistent inquiries after his welfare; trying to placating Chris took what energy for speech that Victor had at his disposal. They simply held hands, and every few moments Yuuri would brush his thumb over the back of Victor’s hand in a silent but powerful message.  _ I’m here for you. _

     A momentary relief swept through Victor when the order to push was finally given; he caved to his body's impulses and bore down with a low grunt of effort. His relief was short-lived though, as the pressure that fought back against him did so with a flash of white-hot pain unlike any caused by the contractions. 

     Victor's eyes flicked first to Chris, then to Yuuri. At the doctor's orders, they'd each taken hold of one of his legs, bending them and pushing them back towards his chest like a pair of human stirrups. Determination and confidence filled Victor as the urge to push began to build again. He knew with utter certainty that between the support of his best friend and the love of his life, there was no way he couldn't do this. 

*****

     “I can't do this, I absolutely can't do this.”

     Close to an hour of fruitless pushing had quickly acquainted Victor with the concept of a small eternity. He couldn't remember ever having been so tired before. A leaden weight seemed to cling to his limbs, while a hazy fog darkened his mind. 

     He blinked at the sensation of a gentle squeeze on the calf that Yuuri was holding. His voice seemed to mosey its way slowly into Victor's muddled thoughts. 

     "You have to, Victor, you have to.  For your baby. They need you to do this, need you to finish bringing them into this world! And I need you to do this because after all of this is over I need you and this baby to move in with me." 

     The fog clouding Victor's thoughts disappeared as quickly as the morning mist dissipates before the sun. He looked up at Yuuri, whose eyes flashed earnestly behind his glasses.

     "What?" That was all he managed to gasp out before tensing again, pushing with renewed vigor as Yuuri began to explain. 

     “All the extra shifts I’ve been picking up, those were so that I could afford a bigger apartment. Although I wasn’t always at work when I said that I was; some of the time I was with Phichit and a few of the other dancers, moving things in.” He looked away for a moment, fiddling nervously with one hand. “I hope you aren’t mad about that bit.”

     Victor shook his head slightly. How could he possibly be mad? Victor was beginning to believe that even if Yuuri some day saved the world, he would expect someone to find fault with him for it.

     When no other response was forthcoming, Yuuri continued. “Phichit was a great help, he was able to get a bunch of baby things from his mother, and he spent a lot of time helping me to set up the nursery. I can’t wait for you to see it, everyone put a lot of work in. Assuming you want to move in, that is,” he added a little sheepishly.

    All Victor could do was nod fervently and sag back against the mattress as the contraction released him from its grip. His heart suddenly felt lighter than air, but his muscles seemed not to have realized any happiness.

     Despite his exhaustion and pain, a smile settled on Victor’s face at the thought of living together with Yuuri. Waking up beside him every day,  getting to share in even the smallest moments of each other’s lives, it sounded like paradise. In the back of his mind, he registered Chris teasing Yuuri by calling him a sneaky fox, sounding genuinely surprised that he had managed to pull one over on both himself and Victor.

     The unorthodox serenity of the moment, which Chris would later say had been akin to the eye of a storm, was shattered when the doctor in charge of the delivery announced that this latest push had the baby crowning. 

     Another small eternity passed, full of blood, sweat, and no small amount of tears. Just when Victor was certain that he had truly become stuck in some sort of strange limbo, the pressure that had been plaguing him released all at once, and a baby began to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao y'all thought Yuuri was up to something sinister


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been having some of the worst days in recent memory, so what better way to cope than to bring all of you down with me? I don't want to give anything away but read at your own risk. Seriously, I'm warning you, I'm about to be mean.

     Adelaida Nikiforov was a gorgeous baby. She was born with bright green eyes, wispy tufts of her mother's silver hair, and a fatal blood clot lodging snugly in her brain. 

     She only lived for thirteen minutes. Victor held her for six of them, counting her little fingers and toes. He showed her to Yuuri, and they fawned over the newborn together, completely and blissfully unaware that their time with her was already drawing to a close.

     The doctor whisked her away when she began to spasm, cutting the cord quickly and taking her out of the room. Victor would never forget the moments that he spent waiting to hear what had become of his little girl. Though the minutes themselves numbered just fifteen, it would always seem to him that a lifetime had passed before the doctor returned to the room and told the pair about the baby’s fate.

     Chris was asked to leave the room somewhere in that span. Harsh accusations had begun to spill out of his friend from the moment it was clear that something was wrong. The sound of a chair crashing to the polished hallway tiles could be heard in his wake.

    The heartbroken expression the physician wore should have said it all before she even opened her mouth. Victor had heard it said dozens of times that when people are told they have cancer, they don’t hear anything after that word itself. He never really understood how that worked until that day, when all he was able to absorb out of the lengthy speech was “I’m sorry, Mr. Nikiforov, there was nothing-”

    It was almost as though his ears were full of water. He could only hear the muffled tones of a soothing and sorrowful voice, and couldn’t seem to do anything but blink owlishly at the woman standing next to his bed.

     Yuuri recovered faster than he did. And by recovered, Victor supposed he meant flopped in a chair and put his head in his hands. It wasn’t a sight that Victor’s numbed mind cared to see, but the sight he was given next was even less so.

    They brought Adelaida back to him. At some point, he must have asked to see her, because he’s pretty sure there are rules against doing that kind of thing otherwise. She was wrapped in a clean white receiving blanket. She looked strangely wise and serene in her little bundle, and altogether too pure for the world. Her tiny body was still warm, and she fit so snugly and perfectly into his arms that perhaps he could have convinced himself that she was just asleep. That wasn’t the case, though, and his mind was finally coming around enough to realize that.

    There was something inherently wrong, he thought, about holding a baby that was so perfectly still. It screamed against all of his instincts, making them rebel and go freeze with dread all at once.

     Victor could never be sure when he began to speak. He thought that maybe his voice started out level, but it didn’t take long for it to begin to shake.

     “You’re so pretty. Oh God, you’re so pretty. It’s your mom, Adelaida, you remember your mom. We spent a lot of time together. I just, I’m not gonna have as much time with you as I thought, okay? I just wanted to say something to you. I know you’ll hear me. You were only here for a little while, but I loved you. I loved you right from the moment I found out you were in my belly. And I loved you the whole time that you were here.” He paused, his throat feeling swollen while he blinked back tears. The last thing that he wanted was for those droplets to besmirch her perfect face.

     Victor cast a glance over at Yuuri, whose eyes were red from crying, before looking back down at his child. There was one more thing he needed her to know. “We both loved you, kid. We always will.”

     ***

     Two months later, and it was moving day. All of Victor’s belongings, which had once been scattered across Chris’ house, were now packed neatly into boxes and piled by the door. All save a few.

     Victor was busy staring down the last of them. He sat cross-legged on the guest bed, a pile of baby clothes strewn across the comforter in front of him. The other baby supplies he’d accumulated had already been stowed away in the basement of the new apartment. These were all that remained.

     “Victor? Vict- ah, there you are,” Yuuri called as he entered the room. “The other stuff is ready to be- oh.” He cut off himself off abruptly as he took in the scene. Wordlessly, he crawled onto the bed beside Victor, putting an arm around him. Victor promptly buried his face in Yuuri's neck and began to cry.

     Yuuri stayed perfectly still. This had been a long time coming, and in his little experience with grief, he’d learned that sometimes you just needed to get it all out. He planned on letting Victor do so without interrupting until Victor mumbled something.

     “Sorry, Victor, I didn’t catch that,” he said softly.

     Victor’s response was low again, and wrought with pain, but audible.

     “I said I wanted to teach her your name. When I thought about playing with her, I thought about all of the different ways that I could sing-song it, so she’d learn it faster.”

     In the silence, Yuuri was sure that he could hear his own heart breaking into thousands of little pieces. He put his other arm around Victor, pulling him into a proper embrace. He smoothed a hand over Victor’s hair, murmuring “I know, I know.”

     There was another thought running through his mind, though, one that he felt Victor should know.

     In a soft voice, he said, “I would have wanted her to call me Dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact! Strokes in newborns are thought to be one of the causes of SIDS, or Sudden Infant Death Syndrome! Okay, so maybe that wasn't a fun fact, but this might be. I actually wrote this chapter second out of all the others, which were otherwise written in order. The entire time I've been writing all of these cute things and posting them and watching all you talk about how adorable it is, I've also been rubbing my hands together and going "I can't wait to smash their hearts into tiny pieces. Lovingly, of course." However! Take note that this is not the end! 
> 
> P.S. Feel free to yell at me, I 100% deserve it.


	13. Epilogue Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Epilogue will be divided into three parts, at least that's what I've planned so far. I initially was going to do one part but that was gonna be fucken loooong.

     Victor couldn’t fit into his jeans. Some people faced this issue on a regular basis and weren’t all that surprised when it happened to them. This was not the case for him. In the five years since he had regained his former waistline, so had he regained his unnatural- and in Yuuri’s opinion, unfair- ability to keep a flat and toned stomach with minimal effort. This had meant that for his entire life he never had trouble fitting into his pants, despite his taste for the extremely form-fitting variety.

     That certainly wasn’t the situation now. He’d been wriggling, squirming, and even jumping up and down in his bedroom for what felt like ages. Even now, laying back on the bed and sucking in for all he was worth, he couldn’t bring the two flaps of fabric together close enough to slip the button through its hole. Each time he tried, a small but persistent bit of flesh managed to wedge itself firmly in his way.

     This just didn’t make any sense. His eating habits hadn’t changed, nor had he stopped visiting his local skating rink during public hours. Not that Victor was very good at skating; he ended up on his ass more often than not, but he still enjoyed himself and had always helped to keep him in shape.

_      Finally,  _ after a colossal struggle, he managed to fasten the button of his jeans, albeit a bit lower than he would have liked. Sitting up, he heaved a sigh of relief and promptly began to tear up when the button shot off with a sharp tearing sound.  

     The door to the bedroom creaked open a moment later. Yuuri peeked cautiously in at Victor, an unspoken inquiry in his eyes. Hayato, their adopted son, wasted no time on such things. He burst into the room, climbed onto the bed as fast as his little legs could manage, and threw his arms around Victor’s shoulders.

     A familiar thought leaped unbidden to Victor’s mind as he looked at their son. It had been over three years since they had taken him in, and he still felt the same old mix of love and hatred towards the boy’s anonymous biological parents. They had brought something so precious into his life with Yuuri, and yet he couldn’t help but get upset when he thought about the fact that this couple had managed to have a healthy child of their own and  _ gave him away. _ That some unfathomably lucky couple out there had possessed exactly what he’d wanted, what he would have given his life for, and had essentially said: “We can do without this.” It didn’t matter how many times over the years Victor had reminded himself that he didn’t know their story, that maybe they had seen this as the best option for the baby. He was beginning to think this line of thinking would always have a permanent residence in the back of his mind, though he wasn’t sure why it had so suddenly been pulled to the forefront.

     “Papa, why are you crying?” Hayato’s voice was uncharacteristically concerned, especially considering that he was only five.

     “My pants don’t fit.” It sounded a little petty when he said it aloud. “My pants don’t fit and it’s…bothering me because…” Victor found himself trailing off. Why was it bothering him so much? Was it simply because this aspect of his life, one which he had never had to pay much mind to, had suddenly betrayed him?

     “You’re getting fat, Papa,” Hayato exclaimed, his little voice cheerful. “Haven’t you seen?” 

     “Hayato!” Yuuri cut in sharply. “That’s not a nice thing to say!”

     “But it’s true, Dad,” he whined, patting his hands against Victor’s belly. Victor felt his eyes widen a little in shock as he came to the conclusion that he did, in fact,  _ have  _ a little bit of a belly. 

     “That doesn’t mean that you get to say it,” Yuuri admonished. “Remember. ‘If they can’t fix it in thirty seconds-”

     “-don’t point it out.’” Hayato finished. “I know, Dad.” 

     “You need to put what you know into practice, then.” 

     Yuuri looked thoughtful for a moment, then turned back to their son. “Hayato, do you think you can go and finish up putting away your toys in the living room? I know I said I’d help, but I’d like to speak to Papa alone for a minute.” 

     Hayato looked a little confused, but nodded and climbed down off of the bed, then hurried out to the other room. 

     Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Yuuri wrapped one arm around Victor’s shoulders and gave him a gentle squeeze before dropping a metaphorical bomb on him. “We need to go buy you a pregnancy test.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's important to note here that in this story I don't think of men who can get pregnant as having regular periods or anything like that. They certainly don't have heats like in omegaverse. So the inspiration for this chapter arose from wondering how they come about realizing that they're pregnant in the first place. The answer? Pants.


	14. Epilogue Part Two

“So then he comes back with the tests anyway, saying ‘I got some of those ones with the weeks indicators,’ like that's supposed to help prove his point or something.” Victor was sitting cross-legged on his bed, ranting into the laptop that sat in front of him while doing his absolute best to ignore the bemused look that Chris was shooting him from the screen. ”I hope the weeks thingy has an option for ‘None, Dumbass, Listen to Your Partner.’”

When no response from Chris was forthcoming, Victor ran a hand through his hair, sighing in exasperation. “He's just so convinced though! He said he's known about this for like, a month, and he even brought up that flu again. Why is he so damn stubborn?”

“Gee, Victor,” said Chris, sarcasm finally boiling over and filling his tone. “I'm sure Yuuri knows nothing about being with someone who's stubborn. And how dare he bring up that weird flu that only made you throw up in the morning and made you blanch at the site of your favourite foods? Can't see where he's drawing a connection there.”

“Chris,” Victor pleaded, “you're supposed to be on my side in this.”

Chris shook his head with a laugh. “Darling, I'm afraid my competitive personality dictates that I have to be on the right side, whether it's yours or not.”

Victor only crossed his arms. 

Chuckling again, Chris asked “Let's see, did Yuuri also have the nerve to mention that day, what was it, a couple weeks ago now? That day a couple of weeks ago when the three of us took a day trip together? When you said your stomach was feeling all bubbly and strange but insisted you just had butterflies because you were nervous that we were going to miss our train?”

“Oh, and of course,” he continued, “I see there haven’t been any strange cravings cropping up… or have you suddenly developed a taste for garlic after hating it for thirty-two years for some other reason?”

There was a soft _thunk_ as one of the large jars of garlic-stuffed olives Victor seemed to carry with him constantly nowadays was rolled off of the bed and out of view of the webcam.

Chris waved the sound away with yet another laugh, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re laughing an awful lot for someone whose ass I’m gonna kick next time I see them, Giacometti,” Victor snapped.

“Oh, please. Something tells me you’re not exactly going to be in the condition to do much ass-kicking. Enough beating around the bush, though. Stand up and get that shirt up, let me see the damage.”

Grunting, Victor stood beside the bed and shifted the laptop around until his midsection filled most of the screen. Deciding it was best to just get it over with, he hiked his shirt up to his chest. Was it just him, or did his stomach seem the tiniest bit rounder than it had looked during the incident with the pants? If he was just gaining weight, it certainly was going fast.

Chris let out a low whistle. “Wow. You were wearing some pretty bulky clothes when I last saw you, but I’m still surprised you were able to hide _that_. _”_

 _“_ It’s not that substantial.”

“Victor, you’re practically bursting out of your sweats. The last time I saw you with a belly like that you were drooling over Yuuri’s Pour Some Sugar on Me routine for the first time,” Chris sighed. “All the signs are pointing one way, my friend.”

“Couldn’t this just be a… I don’t know, a beer gut or something?”

“Yes, Victor, from all of that beer that you don’t drink,” groaned Chris. “And I’m sure that everyone subconsciously cradles their beer belly.”

Victor glanced over at the full-length mirror across the room. He was indeed holding his stomach, with one hand pressed into the small of his back. The image struck him like a bolt of lightning, seeming to root him to the spot.

Chris’ voice broke through to him. “Victor? You gotta end your little vacation here and come back to reality. You’re pregnant, man. You’re knocked up, up the stump, you’ve got a bun in the oven. A pea in the pod. I don’t know how many more ways I can say this.”

It felt like the air in the room had disappeared. Victor sat down hard on the edge of the bed, not bothering to readjust the laptop. He clutched at his chest, and his voice shook. “I can’t do this again, Chris. I can’t,” he managed between gasps. “I can’t have another baby taken from me like this. It’s taken me five long years to get where I am, damn it, and I’ll be damned if I’d call where I am good!”

“So what? You’re just going to ignore this? Terminate it? Give it up for adoption?”

The suggestions were met only with silence.

“Victor,” Chris began softly. “You know I’m all for your freedom of choice and that I’ll stand by you sure as the sun will rise. But I don’t think that’s what you want, deep down.”

“No,” he said quietly, a choked sob slipping out. He fought for composure for a moment before finally breaking down. “Oh Chris, I don’t know what I want…”

Victor’s face was off-camera, but Chris could tell from what he could see that he was holding his face in both hands.

“It’s ok, it’s ok. You have time, I think, you have time to figure it out. Buddy, buddy, breathe with me, okay? In through the nose, out through the mouth.” Under Chris’ careful watch and instruction, Victor’s breathing began to even out again.

Chris’ voice was more serious than Victor had ever heard it. “You need to take those tests, Victor. Just to know for sure.”

“Okay, Chris, okay, I’ll do it.” Victor moved the laptop so that he could see his friend again.  “Thank you, for everything,” he added softly, his voice cracking a little once more.


	15. Why The Fuck Am I Still Calling These Parts of an Epilogue When I Know Full Well There's Gonna Be Like a Fuck-Ton More?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of short, but for dramatic reasons, I had to end it where I did.

“So… how long are these things supposed to take?”

The question hung in the air for a moment. It was the first thing anyone had said since Victor had reappeared from the bathroom, having left the three tests he'd taken on the counter while the results were calculating. He detested the idea of sitting and watching them. It was too great a reminder of what power the dumb little sticks held over their lives at the moment. Instead, he and Yuuri were waiting in the kitchen. Yuuri leaned against the counter, looking a little more disheveled than was justified by having just gotten out of bed. Victor himself was sitting down at the kitchen table; he'd been leaning beside Yuuri for a while, minute or so, but sat down when a familiar twinge began in his back. 

“Five minutes,” Yuuri mumbled absently. He was turning one of the boxes over in his hands, studying the details of the test for what had to be the thousandth time. He glanced at the timer on his phone. “A little less than four left. You're sure you did everything right?”

Victor was a little afraid that his arms were going to become permanently crossed in a disgruntled manner one of these days. “I know I'm a little scatterbrained at the moment, but I think I can manage ‘pee on the sensor’ just fine. We're even using the first pee of the day like you insisted on doing.”

“Sorry, it's just… This is important, you know?”

The glare that shot across the room could have killed, and Victor's tone could have curdled fresh milk. “Oh really? I hadn't thought of that!”

“Victor, you know that's not what I meant, said Yuuri with a sigh. “I just meant that I want to be sure.” 

A noncommittal grunt was the only response. 

Yuuri's phone began to beep, signaling the end of the waiting period, though by then Victor could hardly hear it over the thudding of his heart against his ribs. 

They went into the bathroom together, and Victor found himself staring down at those stupid, stupid sticks again where they lay face-down on the counter. Was it healthy, he wondered, to feel as though your blood had frozen in your veins?

The warmth of Yuuri’s hand grasping his surprised him. “Hey, Victor,” he said softly. “I know this isn’t what you wanted. To- to maybe be pregnant again. Hell, that’s the whole reason we decided to adopt. And I’m _so damn sorry_ that I’m even having to put you through this much.”

Yuuri turned toward Victor, now clenching Victor’s one hand between both of his own. His voice was becoming fervent like he was pleading some critical point. “But I want you to know that we’ll find a way through, no matter what those tests say, and I’ll support you in whatever you choose to do!”

“Though,” he added, dropping to a near whisper, “any child of ours is one that I’d hope to keep.”

That was too much to think about at the moment. Only having just admitted that there was a _chance_ he might be pregnant meant that Victor really wasn’t feeling up to even the slightest bit of thinking about the choices that would entail. About the _anything_ that would mean for their family. There was Hayato to consider as well, though that was an entirely different can of worms.

Victor didn’t even realize that he’d gone entirely quiet until Yuuri broke the uncomfortable stretch of silence. “Do you want me to look at them and tell you?”

“Just do it fast, like ripping off a bandage,” Victor replied, before putting a hand over his mouth. Nausea was beginning to wring his guts like a dishcloth, and he sat down on the toilet, lest he wind up laying on the tiles. He closed his eyes but opened them again quickly when he heard a little gasp, just in time to see Yuuri do a rather cartoonish double-take at the test he held, then scramble to grab the other two.

Anxiety mounting quickly, Victor watched as Yuuri swallowed hard, brow furrowing as he scrutinized the results. He glanced at Victor’s belly, which between the valiant efforts of his pants and shirt alike was barely contained, then back at the tests again before coughing in shock.

“Well, um, Victor, you’re d-definitely pregnant, they all say that.” He was speaking in far too frantic a manner to set Victor at ease. “But- and I mean all I know about pregnancy is what I learned together with you when you were pregnant with… well, when you were pregnant before, but this still doesn’t seem right? This other bit? We need to book an appointment with the doctor.”

“What does it say, Yuuri what does it say?”

Yuuri attempted to hand Victor a test, but his seemingly numb fingers dropped it and it landed on the floor with a clatter. He passed over one of the other tests instead, and Victor felt his own expression become one of confusion and surprise as he took in the numbers on the tiny screen.

His free hand dropped to his stomach. He’d become well acquainted with its size in the days since he had spoken to Chris, having studied his reflection in the mirror several times; beyond that, Victor had on several occasions found himself laying back in bed and simply running his hands over the taut skin. Now, though, he felt the need to confirm his newfound girth yet again.

He’d been pregnant before. He’d read all the books. He _remembered_ this stage of pregnancy. At the time, he’d looked almost as trim as he ever had. So how on earth was he supposed to be only twelve weeks?


	16. Chapter 16

The doctor did a double-take as well when she was told the results of the home test, though it was markedly less comical than Yuuri was sure his own had been.

She peered at Victor over the top of her glasses again before speaking carefully. “The brand of test that you took is quite reputable. I have my suspicions, but I’d like to take your measurements and have you sent for an ultrasound just to be sure.”

Well, that kind of sentiment wasn’t going to quell anyone’s worries. Yuuri could only fold his hands in his lap and attempt to watch patiently as the physician had Victor climb onto the examination table and instructed him to lay down on his back.

Yuuri couldn’t hold back a pang of guilt as Victor rolled up his shirt. However he tried to look at it, his beloved was likely now in a situation far more critical than the one they had originally suspected, and the blame was all Yuuri’s own. What bothered him more, though, was the fact that he had made that comment about wanting to continue the pregnancy. His opinion that communication was of the utmost importance had urged him to voice his wishes as soon as possible, but he had immediately regretted it. Victor had undoubtedly had enough on his mind at the time without the added weight of his thoughts.

On the other hand, the sight of the doctor gently palpating Victor’s belly was one that lifted a great deal of stress from Yuuri’s shoulders. Seeing Victor having at least acknowledged the situation to the point of finally getting a professional opinion was a huge relief, and made him feel as though they could finally begin moving forward instead of spinning their wheels in denial. He understood Victor’s hesitation, at least to a degree. He hadn’t carried Adelaida in his own body for more than ten months, nor had he birthed her, but her sudden loss had managed to shake him to the core. It had not only been Victor who had been resistant to trying again. Still, it had almost been physically painful to see him ignoring the child growing inside him. “ _Children?”_ a nagging voice in the back of Yuuri’s mind supplied unhelpfully.

Dr. Jones had started at the bottom of Victor’s stomach, where it rejoined his the flat portion of his torso, and seemingly having found what she was looking for, had placed the end of a measuring tape at a point well below his hips. She then began feeling her way gradually up from that point until she reached a point a little above his navel, making an unconscious-sounding self-satisfied noise at whatever discovery she had made. The measurement she was after was evidently the distance between these two points, as she nodded to herself and scribbled her findings down onto Victor’s chart.

“I don’t usually make comments on my client’s clothing choices, Mr. Nikiforov,” she said very carefully, “but these are a clear indicator that you need to be switching to maternity clothing.” Dr. Jones traced a red line with one of her fingertips, a mark that had been cut into Victor’s pale skin by the waistband of his pants. “Clothes that are too tight can cause potential danger to proper development. It’s a rare risk, but it’s there. I’d suggest stopping on the way home.”

The next few moments she spent running her hands across the surface of Victor’s bump, pressing lightly in some places as though testing the resistance it provided. Yuuri hadn’t expected to feel so jealous, but damn if he wasn’t jealous as hell. Victor had hardly let him touch any part of his body since Yuuri first mentioned the possibility of pregnancy, and his belly had been completely off limits. It was like Victor’s strange way of punishing him for shattering the illusion that he had been living in so peacefully.

“Well, Mr. Nikiforov,” Dr. Jones said in a clear voice as she finished her examination, “there can be no mistake. This is definitely a multiple pregnancy. Your fundal height is approximately twenty-two centimeters, which would put you at approximately eighteen to twenty-four weeks if you were carrying only a single child. Aside from the relative accuracy of the home tests you took, the urine we tested earlier today is showing hormone and chemical balances appropriate for someone between eleven and twelve weeks along. The HCG levels are a little bit high as well, which further supports my findings. Judging by the consistency of your uterus, there has been a relatively higher production of amniotic fluid, something else often seen in multiple pregnancies.”

Yuuri was pretty sure he could have heard a pin drop at that moment. Were Victor or himself actually breathing? A quick glance at Victor’s expression told Yuuri that he’d have to be the one to ask any questions, and even so it took him a moment to gather his thoughts enough to do that. He was pretty sure that he could speak for both himself and Victor in guessing which question they felt was most pressing.

“How…how many?”

Dr. Jones paused a moment, checking her notes again before answering. “It’s hard to say. There’s definitely two, which can be felt rather easily at the bottom frontal portion of the uterus. There may be more, there may only be the two deciding to sit a little low.” Sitting down, she printed off a form and signed it before handing it to Yuuri. “The two of you can take that and head down to diagnostic imaging. It’s a kind of like a rush order,” she said with a smile. “They’ll get you in at some point today, as opposed to having to wait at least a few days. I’d like to know the exact number myself as soon as possible, so we can plan for the future a little more accurately.”

“On the last note, there are several different brochures and pamphlets in a holder on the wall, just inside the door to the waiting room,” her voice was a little more somber than a moment before, and Yuuri felt he could guess where this was going. She directed her speech at Victor again as she helped him to slide down from the examination table. “You said that you weren’t planning to become pregnant. Some of those have information on our procedures for alternate options. Take as many of them as you see fit.”

Yuuri felt his heart clench a little at the implications of what she’d said. It almost stopped outright when he and Victor exited the little room and Victor made his way straight to the holder that Dr. Jones had mentioned. He reached out, and his hand hovered first over one of the fifteen or so, and then over another. Both of them had headers that said “ _Abortion”_ in elegant fonts. Tears prickled at the corners of Yuuri’s eyes as he watched with trepidation, feeling helpless.

He wasn’t surprised to see that Victor’s eyes were already freely leaking. He seemed to come to a conclusion while Yuuri watched him, clenching his outstretched fingers into a fist before dropping it back to his side.

Moving to stand beside him, Yuuri placed a hand on the small of his back, trying for all the world to radiate a calm and reassuring vibe. Kind of funny, considering the turmoil he felt inside. Leaning in close to speak in relative privacy and trying to keep his voice from wavering he said “It’s okay, Victor, take it if you want. I said I’d be with you no matter what you chose, and I meant it.’’

Victor shook his head firmly. “I can’t. I thought I wanted to, but I can’t.”

Yuuri would be lying if he said his heart didn’t leap a little upon hearing that. “Why?”

“Think about it. How could I possibly spend five years grieving a baby that I lost and wishing I could have had a healthy little girl and then get rid of the next chance I have to redeem myself? I’m scared shitless that something will happen to them, but I can’t end their development on my terms just because I’m afraid it will end on theirs.”  He shook his head again and then plucked a pamphlet on twins out of the holder. “Am I making any sense? I’m not making any sense.”

“You’re making more sense than you have in the last eleven weeks, at least, Victor,” Yuuri said, feeling a couple tears slip their way free of his eyes and roll down his cheeks.

Victor turned toward Yuuri, taking both of his hands and his and placing one palm on either side of his bump, and Yuuri struggled with a sudden surge of elation at the fact that he was being allowed to touch him there again.“I don’t know how many little lives are sandwiched between your hands right now, but I intend to do my best to love and meet and care for each and every last one of them.”


	17. Chapter 17

Hayato sort of acted like the house greeter. Any time that the doorbell rang, he would bolt to answer it, and a second later the volume of his shrill and excited greeting would serve as a secondary way of grabbing the attention of the house’s other occupants. Chris wasn’t one to be particularly vain, but it always seemed to him that the happy shriek Hayato let out for him was an octave higher than it was for everyone else.

He bent down and scooped up the boy, unable to suppress a smile of his own as he giggled. They wrestled for a moment, laughing together before Chris said: “I’m here to pick up your Papa to take him out for a bit, can I set you down so you can go get him for me?”

Hayato nodded eagerly, but when he was back on his own feet Chris noticed that a look similar to concern had settled on his innocent features. He tugged at Chris’ pant leg, his own way of beckoning him to crouch so that they could speak quietly. Chris obliged him, despite the fact that there was no one else within earshot.

“I should tell you,” Hayato whispered in the excited tone that children reserve exclusively for things they aren’t meant to tell people. “Papa’s tummy is getting super big!” He held his arms out in front of himself, miming an exaggerated approximation of Victor’s rounded stomach. “Dad says we aren’t supposed to talk about it, but you would have been too surprised if I hadn’t said. And Dad says that he’s so- so del…deli…”

“Delicate?”

“Right! So delicate we even have to be careful how we touch him!” This last bit of knowledge was imparted with a very serious tone; clearly, Yuuri had made it obvious that this matter was of the utmost importance.

“Of course,” Chris responded in an equally solemn voice, struggling to keep a smile from ruining the facade. Hayato didn't take much seriously, but he didn't like being made light of when he did find a meaningful topic. “I promise I'll handle your Papa with care. We're just going for lunch, after all.”

Their pact made, Hayato took off around the corner in search of Victor. He reappeared shortly after, all but tugging him along by the hand.

The warning he'd been given didn't really do the speed with which Victor's form was changing any justice. The difference was small, but all too noticeable considering it had only been a week and a half since Chris had seen him.

The two men said their goodbyes to Hayato- who by that point was more interested in getting ready for his own outing with Yuuri than he was in reciprocating their farewells- and got into Chris’ car. Chris noted with fondness that Victor carefully pushed the lower portion of his seatbelt under the gentle curve of his middle.

The drive to the restaurant and the meal itself were full of the same teasing and easy banter they'd shared for years, with both friends skirting around the elephant in the room.

Chris wasn't sure that he'd ever seen Victor pack away so much food before. He plowed through both appetizers and an entree before eagerly ordering a handful of things off of the desserts menu. It was rather impressive. This notion must have shown on his face because Victor sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“It's a constant battle already,” he said by way of explanation, “between being too full and being starving. I eat even a little and feel disgusting because there's not much room for my actual stomach even this early.”

“Then they,” Victor said, patting his belly, “decide they're hungry, and it's ‘bam,’ nutrition’s gone and I'm famished again. Or at least that's how it feels.”

Chris eyed the empty dishes still waiting to be cleared. “Just a little, huh?”

“Call it opportunistic feeding. I eat a lot when I can, because who knows when the next time will be?”

Victor sat forward again, resting his forearms on the table. “Speaking of they, I know you're dying to know exactly what's going on over here, I'm gonna have to commend you for waiting this long. So here, take a look.” He pulled a small photograph out of his wallet and turned it the right way before handing it over to Chris.

Chris studied it for a moment. “So what am I seeing here?”

“An ultrasound image.”

A flat look preceded Chris’ next words. “I know that, I only still have the ones from your previous pregnancy. I was hoping for a little more detail.”

Reaching across the table, Victor pointed to a trio grey irregular oval rings in the middle of the sea of black that made up much of the image. “These,” he said, finger tapping each one, “are three separate amniotic sacs.”

Chris, who had chosen a very unwise moment to sip his drink, nearly choked. The acidic sting of soda burned his nose, and he sputtered for a moment. “Three? Three kids? Holy shit.”

“Well….”

“Well? Well what, Victor?”

He pointed to the sac on the bottom right of the photo. “Look at this one, specifically,” Victor said, tracing his finger around it again for more emphasis. “It's different than the others. The ultrasound tech said that this one has two fetuses in it, while the others each have one.”

“Don't tell me… Four? You're having four?”

Victor nodded, his eyes shining with a strange mix of emotions, though Chris was relieved to pick up that there were definitely positive elements to be seen there. “Mhm. Quadruplets, two identical and two fraternal.”

“Sweet Jesus. That Yuuri really doesn't underperform in any sense of the phrase, does he?”

“He feels awful about it, truth be told. Like it's all his fault. It takes two to tango, though, and that's exactly what I told him.” Victor chuckled, hands resting on his stomach again. “Though it's hard to say who’s more at fault here, really.”

“And how do you feel about all of this? About these four little butterflies?” Chris asked. Victor seemed to have adjusted a lot better than he had expected, but he felt the need to make sure it wasn't a bluff.

“You're never going to get over the butterflies thing, are you?”

“Nope,” quipped Chris. “You have to admit that's pretty memorable. But you're avoiding the question.”

Victor drummed his fingers together for a moment before answering. “Terrified, if I'm honest. Excited, still a little surprised… And a little sad, too.”

“Sad?”

“Lord knows I'm not trying to replace her, Chris, but I can't help but feel like that's exactly what we're doing.” He glanced away, and the smile Victor had been wearing slipped completely, the corners of his mouth turning down ever so slightly.

“Victor, look at me.” Chris’ voice held none of the lighthearted tones that it usually did when he spoke to his friend, but neither was it harsh. “No one is going to begrudge you moving forward, her least of all. You deserve to be happy.”

“It sounds so easy when you say it like that, Chris.” Victor sounded dejected, something that tugged at the strings of Chris’ heart like few other things could manage.

Chris looked out the window for a moment, watching the people pass on the busy street as he pondered the situation. “It's the damnedest thing, isn't it?” His voice was thoughtful. “Cruel, even. The things that are the most difficult to stomach in life always seem to the be the simplest to work out when you boil them down. It’s convincing yourself that it’s okay that’s the hard part.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should add this. All of you kept guessing triplets, which was what I was going to go with. But alas, I am a spiteful person, and I decided to change the entire story because fuck you one more baby


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and behold, there is more in time for Christmas. Though not, you know, very much more.

“ _There's what?!_ ”  Hayato’s little voice was full of shock, wonder, and no small amount of confusion. He squirmed in Victor's ever-shrinking lap in order to face him properly. “How?”   
  
Chris hummed appreciatively at Hayato's line of questioning, opening his mouth to give what would likely be a very interesting answer. Yuuri cut in quickly before he could utter a syllable. “I think we'll save the how for later, okay? What matters is that you'll have four little brothers or sisters soon. That's why your papa and I have been so busy lately.”   
  
The issue of how to introduce Hayato to the true reasoning behind Victor's growing belly was one that had been weighing on the collective mind of the couple, at least since the initial shock had worn off. They'd never brought up the topic of little siblings before; bringing more children into their family hadn't been part of the plan, after all.   
  
Telling him bluntly had been Chris’ suggestion. He and Victor had waited patiently for Yuuri and Hayato to return from the movies that afternoon before sitting him down in the living room.   
  
A thousand gentle and calculated ways to break the news to Hayato had been tumbling around in Victor's mind for most of the day. He'd sifted carefully through and each and every idea he'd come across, only to find that none of them really seemed to fit. In the end, he went with the simplest thing he could think of.   
  
“Dad already told you that Papa's body is changing, and you've noticed yourself that my tummy’s a little different.” Hayato had nodded eagerly, excited to be finally joining his parents' confidence on whatever earth-shattering secret that they'd seen fit to keep hidden from him.   
  
“That's because there are babies in there,” Victor had stated. The words had felt rather lame as he said them, but evidently, that had been lost on their son. He'd looked as though his mind had been blown when he'd launched his precious little inquiry into the science of putting babies in Papas’ bellies.   
  
Having his question solidly shut down didn't seem to dampen Hayato's enthusiasm. He looked up at Victor, then down at his stomach again, planting one little hand on either side and studying it intently. “There's really babies in here?” 

“Really.” A smile crept onto Victor’s face. Hayato’s expression made it clear that he took this confusing matter very seriously.

The little boy considered all of this for another moment before shaking his head. “It doesn’t _look_ like there’s babies in there.”

“Oh Hayato,” said Chris from his place on the other sofa. “If only you could tell just by looking, we’d make a fortune off of it. As it is, I think your ultrasound vision is a little out of tune.”

Hayato looked over at him. “Ultrasound?” he asked, blinking owlishly. “Is that just a word for really loud? How can looking be loud?”

“It’s not really looking,” Yuuri attempted to explain. “It’s more like….” he waved his hand in a vague motion as he searched for the right words. “It’s this big machine, and there’s a stick attached that they rub someone’s belly with to take videos and pictures of what’s inside.”

“And there’s this icky gel that they put on your tummy first,” Victor added. “It’s cold, too, and I hate how they have to wipe it off after.”

“Come now, Victor,” Chris said slyly, winking. “You can’t pretend that’s all that different from having other things wiped off your stomach after having _procedures-”_

The pillow Yuuri threw caught Chris square in the face. Chris’ indignant squawk was hardly audible over Victor frantically cutting in, asking Hayato if he’d like to see the pictures.

“The machine don’t work,” Hayato said decidedly after staring at the photos for a moment. “These aren’t babies, they’re… peanuts. You had peanuts for lunch and they saw them in the pictures.”

Victor patted his bump. “They’d be awfully big for peanuts, don’t you think? You looked like this once too, you know.”

“ _Sure_ , Papa,” said Hayato, though his tone made it clear that it was foolish to assume he would fall for such an obvious fib.

“Well, Hayato, why don’t you come see the peanuts next time we have to go look at them?” Their son wriggled and nodded excitedly, already taken in by the promise of some new adventure. “That way you can set the doctors straight and tell them what I’ve really got knocking around in here.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You had to know that Chris will 100% get in some kind of child-inappropriate comment at some point. Yuuri has become a master marksman with pillows and any other small and throwable objects he can find, though.


	19. Chapter 19

Waiting rooms were boring places, filled with unwanted noise and more forced interaction with total strangers than Victor cared to think about. None of this seemed to matter to Hayato, who was quivering with excitement. He'd sat patiently through the initial meeting with Dr. Jones, amusing himself with the toys she kept in her office while the doctor questioned Victor a thousand times concerning his diet, exercise, and general lifestyle. Toys could only keep one distracted for so long though, and by the time that they entered the ultrasound room, the little boy was all but ready to burst with curiosity.

Tugging his shirt up, Victor realized suddenly that his belly button was already drawing tight despite his only being sixteen weeks along. It looked nearly ready to push out. He'd been so distracted lately that he hadn't noticed, but now that tiny detail felt like a strong testament to just how quickly things were progressing. A now-familiar mixture of trepidation and excitement squirmed uneasily in his gut, as it often did when that line of thought crossed his mind.

Hayato seemed a little put out when his request to help spread the gel on his papa's belly was politely declined but quickly perked up when a grainy image filled the monitor that the ultrasound tech had angled toward them seconds before.

He bounced up out of his chair, straining to see it better. “Is that them?” he asked, tugging on Victor's hand. “They're bigger looking, but they still look like peanuts.”

The words were difficult for Victor to force past the sudden swelling in his throat. “Peanuts don't have heartbeats, buddy,” he said as he blinked rapidly, hoping to keep the sudden tears of relief within his stinging eyes.

There they were; four tiny pulsing masses on the screen. Four properly beating hearts within four living babies. Victor’s battle with the tears slipped and was lost as that fact sank in.

The movements had been there for reassurance, of course, reminding him with every soft touch and flutter that at least one of his children possessed vitality. He'd tried not to think about it too much; it felt dangerous even to hope that all of the little ones were well, almost as though dwelling too much on a wish for their health would mar its ability to be true.

Now, though, there was this. This undeniable and solid proof that he was, in fact, brimming with life instead of simply brewing another horrible loss. Finally, a glimmer of hope began to burn through the wariness that the results of his last pregnancy had inscribed on Victor's soul. Perhaps there was a fighting chance that they could really, actually do this.

Hayato cut into his thoughts. “Can we call one of them Peanut?”

The question startled Victor out of the solitary space of his thoughts. He wiped his eyes quickly. “Like…actually name them that? No.”

“We can make it a baby-name, though,” he said rapidly, responding to Hayato’s crestfallen face with a speed borne of long practice.

“What’s that?”

Victor shifted uncomfortably when the technician pressed the wand down on a particularly sensitive spot while in pursuit of the various measurements they needed to collect. “It’s a name that you give a baby when it’s not born yet. Especially if you don’t know if it’s a boy or girl,” he explained. “It feels kind of funny to call them ‘it,’ or ‘the baby,’ the whole time just because they’re in your belly.”

“Is one of them called Butterfly?”

Victor thought about that for a moment. “No,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Though Chris calls them that so much that we may as well name one Butterfly as well, don’t you think?”

Hayato nodded so fast that Victor briefly feared the risk of a concussion. The expression on his face was one of a specific kind of joy and concentration that he only wore when he was deep into creative thoughts. “Four minus two leaves two, right Papa? Can I name the other two?”

“Sure, why not?” He’d spared the question only the briefest thought while the tech began printing off photos for them. Hayato came out with interesting things, sure,  but there couldn’t possibly be any harm in letting him choose something to call his as-yet-unborn siblings.

***

“Peanut, Butterfly….Flipper and Squirmy?”

Yuuri and Victor lay together in their bed later that night, cuddling. Victor’s sweatshirt had been hiked up to expose his stomach, against which Yuuri was resting his head and hands.

“It’s a little odd,” Yuuri continued with a laugh, “but I suppose it makes sense. There’s at least one someone starting to get very squirmy in here, after all.”

“You can say that again.”

Yuuri’s smile faltered for a second. “I know this is only getting harder, I’m so-”

Victor cut him off. “No, I mean literally, say that again.”

One of Yuuri’s brows angled quizzically as he peered upward at Victor. “Say what again?” he asked. “Squirmy?”

Victor’s face lit up. “Yes, that!”

He sat up a little, barely noting the effort that it took in his excitement. “Seems like someone right…” he took Yuuri’s right hand by the wrist, sliding it over several inches until it cupped the side of his stomach. “Here! Someone right here wants to claim that name for themselves.”

“Do they now?” There was the tiniest hint of movement beneath Yuuri’s palm as he spoke, barely noticeable. Yuuri moved his hand, pressing his cheek to the spot instead. “I’m sure Hayato will be glad to know his names are being accepted.”

Yuuri nuzzled the same bit of Victor’s belly a little longer, completely drinking in each little twitch. “You know,” he said softly, “ I didn’t call them Squirmy that time. Maybe they just like my voice.”   
  


“I could hardly blame them,” Victor said, playfulness in his tone. He beckoned to Yuuri, who sat up in response and pressed a kiss to his lips. 

“It is a lovely voice,” murmured Victor, the sound muffled against Yuuri’s mouth, and that was the last that either of them said for quite some time. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Victor is still a slave to his hormones and Yuuri is too pushy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is even more unedited than usual, so bear with me, lol.

The next two weeks passed in a blur of doctors appointments, worrying, and overall chaos as Yuuri and Victor struggled to get everything in order for the next few months. Nothing was ever finished, and it seemed to Yuuri that every time he so much as sat down there was another matter cropping up that required instant attending to.

This combined with Hayato's presence in the household had meant that opportunities for physical intimacy were few and far between. While Yuuri would have found that frustrating at any time, in his opinion it was currently even more so; pregnancy suited Victor physically in ways he'd never been able to understand. One could argue that these ways were only amplified by Victor’s carrying multiples this time around, and he found himself craving his partner’s body with a renewed vigor.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem as though Victor currently shared his enthusiasm. He had been more than receptive to Yuuri the night of his sixteen-week ultrasound appointment, but said receptiveness appeared to have worn off fast enough to give Yuuri whiplash. Whether it was the result of hormones or general irritation, Yuuri didn’t know; the only thing that was clear to him was that Victor was intent on shutting down every advance that he made.

“I said no, Yuuri,” Victor growled, pushing Yuuri away for what had to be the third time that week.  They lay together in their bed again, but there was no affectionate cuddling to speak of. Victor peeled Yuuri’s hands away from the waistband of his pajama bottoms, huffing and turning over to face away from his partner. Rolling over took longer than he would have liked to execute, but he found it comforting for once to be faced with the darkness instead of Yuuri’s figure.

It occurred to Victor for a moment that perhaps he was being a little unfair to his partner. These past few weeks had surely been almost as stressful to Yuuri as they had been to him, and part of him wondered if he ought not to shove aside the complaints of his body and the worries of his mind long enough to allow Yuuri a little relief of the most basic kind.

Another part of him, though, more than overpowered that idea in favour of going to sleep. At least in unconsciousness, he would be free from the already-constant aches and pains that plagued his body and the fretting that kept his thoughts on edge.

The weekly appointments that Dr. Jones insisted on had mixed effects on Victor's state of mind. Each appointment seemed to both confirm that things were as they should be as well assault him with some new worry. For example, this latest appointment at eighteen weeks had seen Victor both elated at hearing the chorus of heartbeats within him for the first time and tearing up again when the doctor brought up the option of screening for various genetic issues. Even the thought of his providing any of his children with an added difficulty in life was something that had kept his sleep restless over the following nights.

The mounting stress, combined with the hectic pace of the last two weeks and the general difficulties of growing four children simultaneously meant that Victor was hardly in the mood for anything sexual, even on the odd occasion that there was time.

His relaxation upon turning over was only temporary. He felt Yuuri shift behind him, raising himself up onto his elbows to get a better look at him. “What’s wrong this time?”

Victor’s hackles rose at the lack of the usual understanding in Yuuri’s tone, and he craned his neck to meet his gaze.

“And what exactly do you mean by that,” he snapped, any shred of sympathy he'd possessed vanishing instantly.

The sharpness of Victor's voice certainly seemed to give Yuuri some pause. He debated on whether or not to continue, choosing after a moment to forge ahead despite the apprehension that had dropped into his gut like a lead weight.

“You um, don’t exactly seem to be wanting to do anything of that variety these days. I just thought you’d be a little more….eager. Like last time.” He placed a hand on Victor’s shoulder as he spoke, trying his best to rub it soothingly. The muscles were tense beneath his palm.

It took everything Victor had not to smack him. As it was, the arm nearest Yuuri still trembled with the temptation of the idea.

“Like last time?” His voice was terse, colder than Yuuri had ever heard it. “By that, would you be referring to the period directly before I lost my baby girl?”

“Victor, you know that’s not what I-”

Victor cut in, practically snarling. “Because I absolutely can’t see where something like that would affect how I feel about doing all this again, not at all.”

Yuuri sat up properly now. His response, when it came, had a touch more of an indignant note than he’d intended. “I was trying to say that wasn’t what I meant. And you’re not the only one who lost her, you know.”

“I’m sorry,” Victor mumbled after a half-second of hesitation. “That was below the belt.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes while Yuuri studied Victor’s form. At just over eighteen weeks, he was quickly approaching full-term measurements for someone carrying a single child; part of Yuuri shivered with delight when he remembered this, despite the tension still thick in the air. There was just something so instinctively amazing about knowing that the colossal changes in his partner’s body were his doing.

Perhaps it was the heady influence of that knowledge that convinced Yuuri to push his case one last time.

He slid a hand beneath the waistband of Victor’s pajama bottoms once more, kneading his hip gently as he spoke. He layered the words in all of the convincing sweetness he could muster. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind? Just two weeks ago-”

Victor cut him off once more, his voice venomous once more. “Jesus Christ, give it _up_ already.” His head whipped around, and he fixed Yuuri with a hard glare. “I agreed to have these children with you, not to roll over on my back whenever you ask like some back alley whore!”

Yuuri jerked back like he'd been stung.

“This back alley whore didn’t realize you hated us so much. Didn’t think you would get so involved with one if you detest them.”

He was already moving before he finished speaking, snatching a pillow off of the bed.

“Yuuri, wait!” Victor sat up as quickly as he could. “I didn’t mean it like that, get back h-”

The only answer he got was the sound of the bedroom door closing, followed by Yuuri’s heavier-than-usual footsteps receding down the hall towards the living room.

_ Go after him,  _ urged a little voice in the back of Victor’s mind. He brushed it off in favour of slumping back against the pillows again, his cheeks burning. If Yuuri wanted space badly enough to storm out of their room like that, his reaction to being chased would be less than pleased, to say the least.

Yuuri’s more traumatic experiences as a sex worker weren’t something they had spoken about often. They had only been brought up once in fact, since Yuuri had first hinted shortly after they’d met. There had always been a sort of unspoken trust that Victor wouldn’t bring it up or pry in any way; a trust that he’d just violated with a handful of careless words.

“Fuck,” Victor said to no one in particular as he turned onto his side again, curling up as best his stomach would allow. It fit his emotions so well that he said it again, and then again; then it was nonverbal, a mantra repeating in his mind until sleep finally took him.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not relevant in this chapter, but I just realized that I literally never mentioned that this story takes place in St. Petersburg. I don't know why it's set there or why I didn't ever bring it up, but that's where it is.

The sunlight was streaming in through the window when Victor awoke, warming his face pleasantly. Normally he’d be happy to find that the little ones had allowed him to sleep in past sunrise. Usually, the alternating levels of pressure against his bladder drew him from bed just as the sky was beginning to lighten. If that didn't do it, his growling stomach- loud as a disrupted bear- would manage to force him to wakefulness instead.

Before today, he would have thought that waking up to find neither of these things bothering him would have felt like a miracle. It seemed though, that the lack of his usual morning urges only served to exacerbate the feeling of emptiness left by Yuuri's all too noticeable absence. Victor carded his fingers through the sheets on Yuuri's side of the bed, hoping that there would be a trace of Yuuri's residual warmth. His wishes were fruitless; the sheets were stone cold.

He'd desperately wanted to wake up and find that the events of the previous night had been a bad dream, that the first thing he would see would be Yuuri's sleepy smile. Reality hit him like a brick, the weight of the remorse he felt seeming to pin him to the mattress.

One of the babies shifted just so- perhaps Butterfly, judging by the way that the culprit was nestled low and snug between his hips- and suddenly the previously absent need to hurry to the washroom returned with a vengeance.

Well. He'd been planning on heading straight for the living room and hopefully Yuuri, but his priorities were being changed for him, it seemed.

Victor let out a huff as he sat up at the edge of the bed, partially from the effort it took to do so and partially because of the chill that washed over him upon throwing off the covers.

There was a general quiver in his belly as its residents protested the sudden change in gravity and the urgency of his need to relieve himself spiked yet again.

“Good morning to you, too,” Victor grumbled under his breath as he stood, making his way toward the bathroom with a waddling gait that he felt grew more pronounced with each passing day.

Victor's toothbrush caught his attention once he'd finished with the toilet. He had no idea how his encounter with Yuuri was going to go; it probably wouldn't hurt to make sure that his breath wasn't offensive in case of close proximity to his partner. Perhaps he was being overly hopeful in thinking that there would be any contact at all; the hurt in Yuuri's voice when he'd responded to Victor's accidental dig at him suggested that he'd be lucky if Yuuri even allowed him to remain in the same room. That being said, he'd always found there was never any harm in being prepared.

Studying himself in the mirror while he brushed his teeth was something that Victor usually avoided doing. For the sake of his own sanity, he usually didn't permit himself a good, hard look at his reflection until he knew that he was already somewhat presentable. Today, though, the absence of brushed hair and proper clothing didn't deter him from eyeing his reflection.

He was softer about the face than he could remember being. His sharp cheekbones and firm jaw were a thing of the past, and a quick poke of his cheek revealed that his finger sank in more than he would have liked. No one besides himself and Yuuri had really seemed to notice his slightly pudgy visage though, what with how overshadowed it was by the other changes his body had undergone.

Regarding the most obvious of these changes made one thing clear: the once-over sized shirt he was wearing was going to need temporary retiring before long. It constantly seemed to ride up, and now was no exception. Victor’s brows knitted and a frown pulled at the corners of his mouth. He hated having to shop for clothes that were only going to fit him for a matter of weeks. While he’d never been exactly uptight with his money, that didn’t mean that downright wasting it sat well with him either.

Tugging at the hem of the shirt with his free hand was barely effective. Even once the fabric was stretched to the utmost there was still a sliver of skin above his pajama bottoms that it refused to cover.

Looking at the size of him, it was almost impossible for Victor to comprehend that he still had twenty-two weeks to go.  _ Well, more like seventeen,  _ he reminded himself. At least according to the plan that Dr. Jones had laid out for them.

In a perfect world, he would carry the little ones to forty weeks and deliver them full-term and full-sized. The truth of the matter was that it was more likely to rain free diapers and formula. As the doctor had explained, there was only so long that a mother’s body could provide developing babies with everything that they needed. When the ability to do so declined to a certain degree as the requirements of the babies grew, labour would be triggered. The more children, the more chance that said labour would occur before the forty week mark.

Dr. Jones had set the minimum goal at thirty-three to thirty-five weeks, though she admitted that that was fairly optimistic. Instead of scheduling a c-section date ahead of time, she had urged Victor to consider another option, one which he had seen the sense in immediately. They would wait as long as he could possibly manage, and bring him in for the c-section at the first signs of labour. Though it was a little frightening to think of undergoing such a major surgery without any idea as to when it would actually take place, he could see the reasoning behind it; with so little room to develop and premature labour being so risky, it was vital to keep the figurative buns in the oven as long as could be done.

A natural delivery was never in the cards. It had been done before, of course, but Dr. Jones had been fairly firm in telling them what a bad idea it was, and Victor was quick to agree. There were enough variables in giving birth to a single child- he’d shuddered to think about what the presence of four children would do to those odds. That was almost as nightmare-worthy as the idea of actually having to push the four of them out consecutively; merely thinking about doing that left him feeling sore and tired.

_ Still, _ he thought as he rinsed out his mouth,  _ seventeen weeks is long enough.  _ There was little doubt in his mind that he’d feel positively planetary by the time this was all said and done.

With his preparation finished, Victor decided it was time to bite the bullet. He took a steadying breath and left the bathroom, heading for the living room while attempting to piece together an apology that didn’t sound like absolute shit. He was only half convinced that he’d managed that by the time he reached the living room and realized he didn’t have anyone to deliver said apology to.

Yuuri had clearly slept on the couch. The pillow he’d taken from their bed lay at one end, with his favourite blanket crumpled in a heap at the other. Yet Yuuri himself was nowhere to be seen.

A sense of dread grew within Victor as he checked each of the other rooms, finding each of them empty as well. Hayato’s absence was to be expected; a glance at the clock in the kitchen told Victor that it was well past time for their son to have gotten on the bus to school. He couldn’t remember ever having woken up to a house that didn’t have Yuuri in it, though, not since they had first moved in together, and the feeling would have been unsettling enough without knowing that it was his own carelessness that had appeared to have driven him away.

Victor felt as though a veritable cloud of misery hung over him by the time that he confirmed that the house was well and truly deserted. It was only as an afterthought that he decided to check his phone to see if Yuuri had texted him, something that he took as evidence to his level of distress. Usually, he was unlocking it before he was entirely conscious. He headed back to the bedroom and grabbed it off the nightstand, feeling a rush of relief and anxiety when he saw that there was indeed a message from Yuuri.

He opened it, trying to pretend that his thumb didn’t shake a little as he did so.

_ “I figured we could both use a little bit of space,”  _ it read. “ _ Phichit and I are overseeing some setups and programming for the new light system, so I went to work early. Dropped Hayato off at school before coming here. I’ll probably be too busy to answer texts for the day.” _

If the message hadn’t come from Yuuri’s number, Victor would have been hard-pressed to believe that he had actually written it. The words contained none of the usual warmth, and the cute greeting and farewell that he always sent were pointedly omitted. The subtext of “ _ Don’t bother responding,” _ was all too noticeable.

Victor let his phone drop to the covers. This time there was no denying the tremble in his hand when he brought it to rest on the side of his stomach. The number of little kicks and flutters he could feel had been gradually rising to a crescendo as he became more upset, and he winced as the baby settled under his left ribs delivered a shot to his diaphragm.

He rubbed broad circles across the surface of his belly while tears began to prickle in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he murmured apologetically as the first tears slid free. “Papa knows he’s stressing you guys out. I just…this sucks.”

For a few moments, Victor just leaned back against his pillows and tried not to descend into outright sobs. To distract himself, he massaged whatever spots the babies decided to assault most intently. They must have found the motion soothing, for the ruckus they were kicking up began to subside, though it didn’t fade entirely.

Contemplating what he ought to do next brought him to the same answer that it had so many times before. There was one person aside from Yuuri that he knew he could always be open with, one whose relationship with him predated Yuuri’s by years.

Taking a shaky breath and wiping his eyes with the back of one hand, Victor picked up his phone again and pulled up Chris’ info. He dialed, trying to even out his sniffling while he waited.

“Chris,” he said without preamble upon his friend picking up, “I’ve really messed up.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the best friends get involved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please excuse if this seems frazzled, I mostly wrote it at work

     “You’re thinking of actually dancing tonight? Just how stressed are you and when are you going to tell me what the hell it’s over?”

     Phichit was leaning against the edge of the desk in their office while Yuuri leaned back in the chair behind it, studying his hands where they were clasped in his lap and wishing he'd gone outside for a break instead. The day had a bracing wind though, and he'd left the house in such a hurry that he'd forgotten his jacket, leaving him with little option but to take his break in the company of his best friend and business partner.

     The term business partner was one that had taken Yuuri a long time to get used to using. After all, it wasn’t every day that a stripper suddenly found himself and his closest friend and fellow performer running the establishment at which they had been attractions for years. 

     Though it hadn’t seemed like much at the time, the decision to start working the club’s bar on occasion would later transmute itself into quite the opportunity for Yuuri and Phichit to better their paychecks. Taking the odd step off of the stage had allowed the two dancers to display skills that their dancing alone didn’t give them the chance to; prioritizing, critical thinking, and generally smooth customer service were only a few of the abilities their bar shifts allowed them to flaunt. 

     They weren’t long in catching the eye of the owner, who promoted them to shift managers in order to make better use of their abilities to communicate and problem solve, particularly as members of a team. 

     It was almost immediately apparent that they worked best together. Phichit functioned as the mouthpiece and charisma of their duo, able to unite their staff and placate quarrels with an ease few possessed. This also served to keep Yuuri out of the spotlight when its heat grew too intense; Phichit provided a reprieve from the people aspect of the job when Yuuri needed it the most. Yuuri himself, on the other hand, served the main functions of keeping his partner grounded and on task and using his admirable determination to take any difficult situation they faced apart piece by piece. 

     With the establishment’s owner getting on in age, Yuuri and Phichit had managed to accumulate responsibilities with startling speed until they all but ran the club. Nowadays they were in charge of virtually everything, from ordering alcohol to scheduling entertainment- the demand for which was higher than Yuuri could ever remember it being.

     The unique perspective that Phichit and Yuuri had because of their unorthodox career paths gave them a distinct advantage, in their eyes. They knew what about an establishment made it enjoyable to work at, and what things they could change at the club in order to make it more appealing to workers both new and experienced. The implication of stricter rules regarding intoxication and harassment were just the beginning, and soon the employees at  _ The Velvet Vixen _ had a much more sunny outlook when it came to working. 

     This was by design. Phichit’s design, specifically, though Yuuri had agreed it made a great deal of sense.  _ “Happy dancers mean happy customers, Yuuri,” _ he had said at the time. The fact that they had since stripped their competition of most of their business was proof of that statement.  

     In the regard of crushing competitive clubs, they had another advantage up their sleeves in the form of Christophe Giacometti, a powerful private property dealer and of course, a close friend of theirs. 

     He would sweep in whenever a rival club finally had the vast majority of its customers stripped away by the  _ Vixen’s  _ iron grip, offering convincing prices and deals the management wasn't likely to get anywhere else. With the pressure of bills to pay and no income to do it with aiding his cause, Chris would talk them around to selling their establishments with the ease of a master chess player manipulating his pieces. 

     It was an added bonus to Yuuri and Phichit that Chris never sold to anyone planning to turn the place into another strip club when he could avoid it. He also helped them to cut incredible deals with contractors when they needed renovations and the like, letting them save on fees they might have had to pay elsewhere. 

     Yuuri sighed, steeping his fingers before his face thoughtfully. Phichit had been asking him questions like that ever since Yuuri had announced his intentions to take the stage that night. He did that sometimes when he needed to clear his mind or blow off some stress. Yuuri's unusual reluctance to talk about what was causing said stress had his best friend seemingly ready to lose his mind. So much so that talking about the previous night would probably be the only way to abate his interrogation, regardless of how unwilling Yuuri was to open up about it. 

     “Victor and I had a fight.” 

     Phichit rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, shifting his weight against the desk. “I was hoping for details rather than simple statements of the obvious,” he said, gesturing for Yuuri to continue. 

     “It was… bad.”

     Now it was Phichit’s turn to sigh. “Christ, Yuuri, this makes pulling teeth look easy. I can only help if I know what's up.” 

     Yuuri shot a glare at Phichit through the spaces between his fingers. “Do I have to pay for this therapy session?”

     Phichit’s flat stare cut Yuuri to the bone, instantly washing him in a wave of regret. 

     “Sorry,” he said, massaging his temples in an attempt to calm the ache growing between them. “I know you're just trying to help.”

     Yuuri folded his own arms over his chest now, staring at an interesting bit in the grain of the desk. 

     “I wanted to, ah- I…” There was a pause, and he licked his lips hesitantly and started over. 

     “I guess it happened because I was pressuring him for sex?”

     “Yuuri!” Phichit exclaimed with a gasp. “That's like, a pregnant person no-no page one! Or an any person no-no, for that matter.”

     “I know,” Yuuri groaned. “It had just been forever, and I was stressed, and I-” 

     Phichit cut in sharply. “And that changes things why?”

     “It doesn't, I know.” Yuuri took another deep breath, forcing himself to release it slowly. “You wanted to hear what happened, right? So just let me tell it my way.”

     Phichit harrumphed but otherwise acquiesced and allowed Yuuri to continue unhindered. 

     “I was pressuring him, like I said. I see that now, it didn't really feel like it at the time.” He looked down at his feet, avoiding Phichit’s gaze. “And I pushed a little too hard, I guess. He um, might have said that he wouldn't roll over anytime I wanted like a back-alley whore. And then I kind of… Got mad and left? I came here before he got up, haven't seen him since.”

     There were a few seconds of silence before Yuuri could convince himself to look back at Phichit. He did, hesitantly. 

     His friend was rubbing his own temples now, eyes closed in a visible struggle to draw up whatever patience he had left for this situation. “Have I ever told you what idiots you both are? Seriously, you morons are perfect for each other.”

     He fixed Yuuri with an exasperated glare. “When everything's smooth you're like two peas in a pod, and the second there's bumps in your path you both layer mistake on mistake until one of you snaps.”

     Yuuri dropped his gaze again, cheeks reddening, just in time to see his phone light up with Chris’ name. He picked the call up immediately and put it on speaker, glad to have a reprieve from Phichit’s barrage of harsh truths. At least he was until Chris began to speak. 

     He didn't even allow Yuuri a chance for a greeting. “I'm a little confused, Yuuri,” he began in a biting tone, “as to where exactly you get off. Understand that the only reason I'm even giving you a chance to answer that is because you're a good friend and I'm sure you have a great reason as to why Victor just called me, sobbing, and acting as though it's his fault you ran out on him after your being a complete ass.”

     Something in Yuuri broke, and a flood of words were spilling out of his mouth before he could stop it. 

     “I fucked up, okay, Chris?” Yuuri very nearly shouted into the phone, tears heavy with the regret and bitterness of the past twenty-four hours welling up in his eyes. “Is that what you want to hear me say? I already know that!”

     “I want to hear you say that you'll fix it.” Chris’ voice had lost some of the venom it had initially held. “I know that what Vitya said was far from okay, but this is on you. You push someone in Vitya's situation like that and you'd better be prepared to deal with the consequences. You brought this to a head, you come up with a solution.”

     “In the meantime,” Chris continued, “I’m going to pick up Victor and Hayato for an impromptu sleepover. A little time to breathe will be good for all of you.”

     The call ended with a click, leaving no room for argument.

     Yuuri, usually so careful with his electronics, let his phone clatter unceremoniously to the desk.

     Phichit had begun to pace the room during the phone call, throughout which he had remained silent. He stopped now to look at Yuuri, cocking his head to one side and raising an eyebrow. “So,” he asked, like a teacher prompting a student to answer a difficult question. “What are you going to do?”

     There was a heavy moment full of thoughtful quiet before Yuuri responded. 

     “First,” he said, “I’m going to ask for your help.” He smiled then, despite the fact that a couple tears had slid free. He wiped them away with the back of his hand. “And then, I’m going to do just what Chris said. I’m going to fix this.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Arms Open](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13790427) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account)




End file.
